Proper
by Discovercat
Summary: AU After the end of the first war against Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy attempts to redeem his name. His actions have unforseen consequences for the entire wizarding world.
1. Prologue

A/N My take on the Harry Potter world if Harry's generation had been more socialized with each other.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

There were some things that you just couldn't predict no matter how hard you tried. He had known that his side would win. _Known_. Despite their smaller size, they had brought the world to its knees. Others had cowered and fled before him (as they still did) and no one had dared question anything that he did. Then their leader, a wizard so powerful and feared that people were still afraid to say his name, a man who even the great Albus Dumbledore had hesitated to face, this wizard had to go and get himself offed by an infant. For all his plots and machinations, there was no way that Lucius Malfoy could have predicted that outcome.

It didn't make sense logically or even illogically. If there had been a sign that one of the boy's parents had been responsible, well... getting killed by a blood traitor or mudblood was still a fraction better than being killed by a baby.

His grip on his quill tightened and it snapped. He threw it into the trash where it joined five other broken quills. A part of him still couldn't believe that this had happened. That he'd been forced to drag the Malfoy name through the mud in order to stay out of jail. Malfoys were not victims. His father had all but beaten that rule into his head. Fortunately, the rule 'Malfoys survive at all cost' had been emphasized more. And that's what he was doing right now, sitting in his study with countless books and journals on blood status and births and the integration of mudbloods into wizarding society surrounding him. He was surviving. Malfoys could not not be on top. He'd avoided Azkaban, yes, but the stigma still needed to be erased from his name.

He picked up another quill. It had taken him some time, but he'd finally found the laws and examples he needed. Dumbledore had thought that he had him when he mentioned the correlation between magical births and mixed blood. The old fool had given him texts on the subject and made it a requirement of his parole that he read them all and be able to report on them like he, Head of the Malfoy line, was a mere schoolboy. Narcissa had talked him out of poison, so he'd read the cursed books. He hated to admit that the books presented some evidence and facts that couldn't be faked. Purebloods who were too closely related had a harder time having children and the children they did have were more often Squibs.

It had taken three miscarriages and one stillbirth before his heir was born. He'd had to force both himself and Narcissa to keep on trying. Out of all the purebloods he knew excepting the red-haired blood traitor paupers, most only had one or two children but not for lack of trying. While the Dark Lord had been intent on eradicating those not fit to be wizards, he had also wanted his followers to populate their world with those who were. Few of his followers had been able to, and one of the reasons there were so few women marked was because of this order. Bellatrix and Alecto were infertile. The rest of the women had to deal with the same tragedies that Narcissa had; at least two had Squibs which were swiftly dealt with.

Voldemort had not been pleased. He had told his followers that it was due to mudbloods stealing magic but only the most fanatical and idiotic had believed that. Lucius was neither. Babies and children didn't steal magic. Voldemort had divulged to him in confidence that he had Severus looking into the matter but that had never come into fruition because he'd then gone out and got himself killed. By a baby; it was ironic in a weird sort of way. And then, in the resulting chaos that was war crime trials and keeping out of Azkaban, he'd never got the chance to talk to Severus about the topic. Narcissa did want more children but it would break her heart to have another miscarriage and Lucius couldn't have that. There was Draco to think of.

He pushed 'Laws Concerning the Admittance to Hogwarts of those Lacking Wizarding Blood,' a book written by one of Slytherin's contemporaries, to the side and grabbed a stack of books that he'd risked Azkaban for due to the copious amounts of illegal obliviation he'd done to obtain them. It just wouldn't do for anyone to know that Lucius Malfoy had purchased Muggle genetics books. The top one had what he was looking for so he leafed through it, copied the info, and cited the book.

Dumbledore thought that now that the Dark Lord was gone, he could just retreat back into his hiding place at Hogwarts and let the denigration of their world by Muggles continue. He was wrong. Lucius might not have the power or charisma that the only man he'd willing humbled himself for had, but that didn't make him any less dangerous, didn't mean that he didn't have power or charisma himself. His grandfather and father had both dedicated their lives to the continuation of their line and their world. He would, could, do no less.

His first alliance toward that goal had failed. No matter, he'd go about through a different avenue, one that Dumbledore had made possible the minute he'd taunted him with the books.

The world would know that Lucius Malfoy always landed on his feet.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Warnings: descriptions of child abuse

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Albus Percival Wulfgar Brian Dumbledore had known something was afoot the minute a certain Death Eater that had lied his way out of prison had started having clandestine meetings with purebloods. A part of him had been disappointed because Lucius Malfoy was generally more subtle and a lot more intelligent given that the war was fresh on everyone's mind and there were several people who held a grudge about the blonde's status as a free man. Himself included. So when several of his portraits had mentioned seeing Lucius at different pureblood's homes, always at night and always with a privacy charm cast so the portraits couldn't hear what was being said, he got suspicious. Severus had told him that it was too obvious to be anything illegal, but he was still learning how much he could trust the Potions Master. Severus Snape still called Lucius Malfoy friend for all that Albus Dumbledore owned his allegiance. He had to work on that.

He steepled his hands together and scanned the room where all of the Wizengamot had gathered. It was the first time they had all been called together for a matter that was not related to Voldemort or war crimes. Half the wizards and witches in here had been in one the aforesaid clandestine meetings with Malfoy, including the three half-bloods who held seats.

"Order!" Their new minister called from the center of the room. Lucius Malfoy stood next to him; Albus could feel the smugness radiating off of him all the way up in his seat. For a second he wished that he hadn't turned down the minister position because Cornelius Fudge was not the sharpest quill. "I call this two hundred and seventy third meeting of the Wizengamott of England to order on the sixteenth day of the fourth month in this year of nineteen hundred and eighty three. Let the secretary begin recording."

"Recording." The secretary sat on the ground floor closest to the speakers. She had been one of his students… Hufflepuff or Gryfindor he believed.

"Let it be noted that this session was called for by Lucius Marius Malfoy." Fudge continued.

"Noted."

"Then let he who calls be heard." Fudge nodded to Malfoy then sat next to the secretary.

"This is a travesty." Someone muttered in the section next to him. It was a female voice so it was either Augusta Longbottom or Lady Bones. Neither of them had been happy to see Malfoy avoid Azkaban either.

Malfoy glanced at that section and smirked for a second before his face went blended back into the haughty and cold façade he always wore. Dumbledore became aware, not for the first time, of how much he hated the man.

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, you all know of the ordeal I endured and the unfortunate horrors and crimes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me to do." Lucius delivered this line completely straight-faced.

Several people snorted. It was only the conditioning that came with age that kept Albus from being among that number.

"Although I've already paid for my crimes and provided extensive support to St. Mungos, my conscience is still not clear because I haven't helped the majority of the people I was forced to hurt."

Albus frowned. While Malfoy still pretending to be a victim of Imperious was not surprising, the way he was going about this was. What exactly was the man up to?

"I thought long and hard about what I could do to truly start to make amends when our own Supreme Mugwump gave me both the idea and resources to carry it out. I would like to take this moment to extend thanks to Albus Dumbledore." Malfoy inclined his snake-headed cane in Albus's direction and clapped. Everyone joined in, casting confused looks in both his and Malfoy's direction.

Albus suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"Yes. Everyone knows how our beloved Headmaster loves people of all kinds regardless of their blood status and I have come to appreciate that view."

There were several gasps. Albus noticed that Malfoy had said 'come to appreciate' rather than 'come to agree with'.

"In our schools, muggleborns do just as well," Malfoy coughed to disguise what looked like a choke to Albus. "As purebloods. In fact, several reputable sources have shown that there are some who even do better. Magically that is."

Voldemort could have walked into the room and announced he was having a love affair with a house elf and people probably would not have looked more shocked than they did now. Lucius Malfoy going against centuries of pureblood idealism when he wasn't being forced to by the court of law? Albus waited until Lucius met his eyes and tried to Legilmens him. He hit a brick wall as he did every time he tried and Lucius's lips quirked up slightly.

The noise level rose as people began talking amongst their selves, trying to make sense of it all. Lucius raised the hand that held his cane and it went down once more.

"Magically, muggleborns are the same as purebloods, but," Albus had been waiting for that 'but'. "Their rearing in the Muggle world gives them a disadvantage. One that is the reason that they statistically do less well than pure and halfbloods raised in the wizarding world in several important disciplines and jobs." Malfoy waved his wand and a list appeared in everyone's lap.

Dumbledore skimmed the list and was surprised to see that it was both accurate and cited reputable sources, including the books he'd given Malfoy. It was true that Muggleborns on a whole did do worse in positions that required an automatic use of powers. He had many ideas about why that was and it was one of the reasons why Hogwarts was a boarding school since it meant all the students had a total immersion in their learning environment. However, he suspected that Malfoy's ideas and solutions would not be to his liking.

"The problem is, of course, their muggle upbringing." Everyone who had not had a private meeting with the blond relaxed; this was an in character statement for him. "I'm sure the Headmaster has been trying to combat this very issue for years, but his power is not unlimited and he can not get the students' parents to make the changes that would ameliorate the problem. The castle is also too small to accommodate lowering the age of acceptance."

People were whispering again. Dumbledore remembered that a few radical purebloods had advocated lowering the Hogwarts acceptance age about twenty years ago. The motioned had failed because the moderates, the liberals, _and_ the rest of the extremists had been against it. Some cited that the move would increase the Hogwarts tuition bills and that was why they were against it. Others said that it was because it was too young for children to be away from their parents and they would be too immature to learn. However, one of the extremist put it best, speaking the subtle racism that Albus had sensed and even unconsciously participated in. There had been a lot of talk about 'impressionable minds' before the pureblood, Nott he thought it was, gave voice to what was an underlying fear in the wizarding world, one that Voldemort had tapped into. He simply said that he didn't want any muggleborns influencing his children before they were old enough to be firm in their beliefs.

The tension in his shoulders eased and he stopped forcing the twinkle and let it happen naturally. There was no way that Malfoy could do anything to muggleborn students even with his name and money, not when his war crimes trial had barely passed from the Wizengamot's mind. Then he remembered the secret meetings and he tensed again.

"However, to help our kin, we need to do something. The general public is not aware, as I was not before, that a fifth of muggleborns who receive letters from wizarding schools… Do not accept them." Malfoy paused to let that sink in.

Albus was definitely forcing the twinkle now as he heard the shocked gasps of his colleagues. How had Malfoy gotten that information? It was confidential and only the Headmaster of schools and the special obliviation team designed specifically to deal with those cases should know.

"A fifth." Malfoy repeated. "And when this happens, despite any abuse the child might have been receiving as a result of his untrained magical ability, an obliviation team is sent in to erase the family's knowledge of the letter and the child's magic is bound."

"That can't be true." Augusta Longbottom stood up, her vulture hat perched on her head as always. "Binding a child's magic at such a young age would do nothing but cause problems and their magical core would eventually overheat and kill them."

"I believe the muggle world calls it spontaneous combustion." Malfoy said. "It's a condition when a person just burst into flames like a phoenix… only they don't resurrect."

"This is all true, Madame Longbottom." Fudge said. "If you like we can show you the documents of this. Headmaster Dumbledore knows of this also."

The entire Wizengamot turned to Albus. Their eyes judged him for upholding a law that had been put on the books when the Founder's walked the halls of Hogwarts. "If a parent does not wish for their child to come to our school, we cannot force them." His voice filled the chamber and he was gratified to see people nodding in agreement, however reluctantly.

"No. The good Headmaster is correct. We cannot force parents to make their children go to our schools." Lucius smiled congenially at his audience. "However, we can't allow our kin, our children, to suffer needlessly when we could have stopped it."

He waved his wand and a large picture hung in the air so everyone could see it. There were more gasps. It was a little girl or boy covered completely in bruises and scars. One eye was just a mass of scar tissue.

"This is Eleanor Frungett. The obliviator squads had to begin going to her house when she was eight months to cover up her accidental magic. Her parents decided that she was possessed and tried to beat the demon out of her. She received her Hogwarts letter at eleven and her parents said no. The obliviators bound her magic and removed the memory of Hogwarts but that did not change her parents viewing of her as a demon or their abuse of her. She's fifteen in this picture and died three months after it was taken." He paused. "We cannot force parents to make their children go to our schools."

The picture changed with another flick of his wand. The child in the picture looked worse than some of the burn victims in St Mungos who'd been attacked by Fiendfyre. Most of the Wizengamot only took one look then focused on Malfoy, unable to gaze at the child for too long.

"This is Peter Albright. His first case of accidental magic happened when he was one. His mother accidentally cut off her finger when cooking and he made it re-grow." Lucius paused, waiting for people to quiet down.

It was rare that some one with that innate healing ability was born. Had the child been born to a wizarding family he would have started learning healing basics at an early age and been lined up to apprentice to someone before he got a Hogwarts letter. Albus remembered walking in on Minerva crying after she'd been unable to convince this young man's parents to let him come to Hogwarts; she'd even confessed that she'd almost broken their laws and just taken him.

"His parents also thought he was demon possessed. His accidental magic after his first incident usually involved regenerating some part of his body. It is a testament to the amount of magic that the child possessed that he lived as long as he did. After his parents refused his admittance to Hogwarts and his magic was bound, he died during his parents' last attempts to purify him with fire."

Lucius flicked his wand again. This child was not as horrifying to look at as the last was at first glance, which was sad considering that someone had branded her face with a cross. But at the second look, Albus noticed how emaciated she was, the obscene angles her limbs had, the twisted, bumpy nose, the scar tissue on her neck, and the other brands on her body, all biblical verses. 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live' was branded repeatedly up and down both arms and on her face.

"This is Lacey Peterson. First case of accidental magic was three. She levitated."

Albus closed his eyes. That was another rare talent. He remembered this girl too. Severus been sent to explain things and then had advocated killing the parents and covering it up when he'd come back. Albus'd sent Minerva instead. She hadn't spoken to him for a month after that if it didn't involve business.

"Her parents had her exorcised and when that didn't end her bouts of accidental magic, they began branding her with their talismans and verses to 'hold the evil at bay'. Her parents accepted her invitation to Hogwarts with the intent of alerting the Muggle military of our presence so we could all be killed. Their purpose was quickly sussed out though by the teacher sent there and after he told them that they would be bound to silence on our world, they refused to allow the girl to come. After the obliviator team did their jobs and bound her magic, her mother pushed her down a flight of stairs again and didn't bring her to a healer. She was unable to walk or defend herself and died three months later of starvation."

The room was silent. Lucius waved his wand and all the pictures hung next to each other. His eyes scanned his audience, gauging their reactions, and liking them if Albus judged him correctly. Most everyone in the room was a parent and Lucius was giving them names and faces to go with whatever he had planned.

"These are just three examples of the abuse that our fellow magic users face as children. Each of these situations could have been prevented if we had stepped in instead of ignoring them. Three witches and wizards who cannot contribute their talent or blood to our world." Lucius's voice broke slightly when he mentioned 'children'.

A part of Albus noted that this was the same wizard who had the third highest death and torture count under only Voldemort and Antonin Dolohov. The bigger part of him noted with horror that people were being moved emotionally by Malfoy's speech, so emotionally that they would not make the same decisions they would if they were thinking rationally and logically. Yes, what had happened to these children was bad, but these were just exceptions. Most muggleborns who declined to come into the wizarding world were not so horribly abused, of course he doubted that Malfoy would be mentioning that.

"As a part of my community service I was forced to write on who made up our society. While beforehand I would immediately had said only purebloods and half bloods, I now accept that muggleborns are also a part of the wizarding world. And since they are, don't they also deserve our protection? Don't they too deserve to be protected as children especially from those who would prey on them and abuse them?"

Malfoy got a standing ovation. Albus clapped, and noted that even some of Malfoy's hardest rivals were standing for him. He was pleased to see though, that not everyone was carried away by Malfoy's act. Madame Bones was clapping politely in her seat as was Augusta and Lady Abbott.

Malfoy waited for everyone to sit down before he began again. "I know that some of you are suspicious of my motives because of my previous views and my time spent Imperio'd, and are wondering why now? What has caused me to take up the banner of those I previously disdained?"

"Exactly." Augusta nodded. Albus agreed with her, but he was very wary that Malfoy reminding them of his faults again instead of running with his momentum.

"I have no false tale of sudden inspiration and seeing the error of my ways nor am I using this as a ploy. I stand here before you today because I am, above all things, a husband and a father." He motioned to the pictures hanging above him. "And I speak as a father when I say that I could never allow that to happen to my child or any under my protection. And I speak as a husband when I say that my wife would rather die than have any harm at all happen to her child or any child under her protection. Just, as I'm sure, you all feel."

People were agreeing with him in the stands, either nodding or simply saying 'yes'. Even some of Albus's allies were caught up in the spell Malfoy was weaving.

"Especially," Lucius's voice broke. He swallowed and for once Albus saw real pain flash on the man's face. "Especially given how hard it was for us to have a child."

The room went silent again, and people fidgeted in their seats. Fertility problems were a big issue, especially for purebloods, but all of the wizarding world had them though most didn't talk about it. Albus knew that each wizard or witch in here either had a miscarriage or stillbirth, or knew someone close to them who had. It was a result of the massive inbreeding that the English wizarding society had been doing and those with the most children or without those fertility issues either were those who married muggles, muggleborns, halfbloods with no relation to them, or purebloods from other countries. The problem and solution were obvious to anyone who thought to look for them but wizards and witches were not known for seeing the obvious especially not when it went against tradition and keeping money in the family. Lucius Malfoy would have been the second to last wizard he'd expect to advocate this after Voldemort. He was also one of the last people he expected to openly admit his fertility problems.

Of course, with that one move he'd legitimized his entire effort; no one was going to accuse him of lying now that he'd made it so personal. Albus could only admire and curse a move that cunning.

"I know that we are not the only ones to have these issues, which is why I have come before you now. Narcissa and I were lucky in that we managed to have a healthy child, but there are others not so blessed." He motioned to the pictures again. "This should not have happened. Why should these innocents suffer when I'm sure that any one of us here would have stepped forward and offered to raise the child as their own."

Albus heard the trap click into place in his mind. He raced through all the avenues open to him to stop this before it spiraled out of control but Lucius had done this masterfully. If he spoke out right now, he would make himself look like an uncaring old man and it would only remind everyone that he knew about these children and didn't help them. His position as Headmaster would be questioned and he couldn't have that, not this early in his plans. All he could do now was hope that he was not the only one who smelled a rat. Even Madame Abbott and Augusta looked intrigued now.

"Think about it. We could have, should have, stepped into these child's lives at the first sign of abuse and removed them from these households. Even Muggles remove abused children from unfit households, why should we not do the same when it comes to our own?" He flicked his wand and another document appeared in everyone's lap.

It was a law proposing exactly what Malfoy had suggested. That they remove muggleborns from unfit households and adopt them out to wizards. Albus looked it over and had to admit that it was well written and covered most things that he would have complained about including what could be defined as abuse and who would be qualified to adopt. However…

Albus stood up. Instantly all attention was on him. "While I admire your candor and believe in the spirit of your proposition, it is in direct violation with the Queen's Treaty of 1812 which states that wizards must not take Muggleborn children from their parents without their consent. This treaty is why Hogwarts and other schools have not taken direct action themselves. We would breach the trust the Muggle government has in us not taking their children from them."

His opposition did not come from Malfoy. Ariana Hallowell stood up. "So you would allow children to be abused to death in order to conform to your archaic laws, Dumbledore?"

"I'm not say-"

"You were aware of this, headmaster? Children being treated worse than dogs and…" Reginald Parkinson, former Death Eater sympathizer, stood up and pointed at him. Parkinson's wife had had at least five miscarriages.

"It's unacceptable." Lawrence Umbrigde croaked out. He was almost as old as Albus but not half as fit. His daughter was also only half a step from being a Squib. "We must take steps towards change."

"The Treaty is clearly outdated." Vardan Runcorn added. His first wife died giving birth to a stillborn; his second had not carried a child to term yet. "We can have a meeting with the other minister and clear it up. We cannot afford to waste children like this."

Albus sat back down. Discussing children as if they were a commodity? There was no reasoning with this lot. He shared a glance with Madame Bones. Lucius had won this battle.

"Should we take a vote?" Malfoy asked, thirty minutes of debate about how to amend the Queen's Treaty of 1812 later.

The law passed with an overwhelming majority without any amendments made to it.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts shook his head, planning to go home and prepare for the eventuality of this law failing in the worst possible way. He didn't notice the extremely small print on the bottom of the last page of the document that read 'See next page for circumstances regarding placing muggleborns of serious talent.' If he had, he would have used his position to force it to be removed. But he didn't notice it, and he didn't amend the law.

There were still Death Eaters to capture, a school to run, and the failsafe Voldemort had used to remain alive somehow to figure out. Malfoy could have this law because it would help out the children.

He would later look back on this moment and regret it.

"Lucius."

The blonde wizard paused in his trek toward the Floo and turned towards the man who'd just stepped out of the alcove behind him. "Alton. Are we speaking now?"

Alton Nott was a burly, average looking man of medium height with short light brown hair and an unassuming demeanor. He was the type of man that people forgot about without him even having to leave the room which made him an expert on Dissallusion charms and stealth spells. It also meant that he was one of the few Death Eaters who didn't get any suspicion at all turned in his direction after the Dark Lord's fall.

"I wasn't aware that we had stopped." Alton casually glanced both ways and moved closer to Lucius once it was clear that no one was coming. "I did miss our little get-togethers."

"Really?" Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I'll have to relay that to Narcissa, she's always looking for an excuse to throw a party. And I'm sure she can provide you with a partner, permanently or otherwise."

Nott's face tightened. "I'll have to decline."

His wife's death was clearly still a sensitive subject, Lucius noted. He did feel for the man; Careen Nott had died giving birth to his only son after trying for twenty years.

"Pity." Lucius pulled out his watch and glanced at the time, not because he was in a hurry, (Malfoys were never in a hurry; people waited for them), but because it seemed that Nott had forgotten that his time was precious and even though the first step in his plan had worked brilliantly, he still needed to begin sowing the seeds for the second step. "Was there something you wanted?"

The other wizard scowled at him even as he cast a privacy spell around them. "I just wanted to ask, what do you think you're playing at?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Lucius smirked. "Come Alton, you'll have to be more specific than that."

"You know exactly what I mean." Alton hissed. "Conspiring to pollute our blood with that of animals! What would our Lord say-"

"Our Lord," Lucius's eyes narrowed, though he kept his smirk. "Is dead. I'm simply continuing on in the spirit of his work."

It looked like the other man was about to have an apoplectic fit. This was why Lucius had not included him among those he had first approached with the idea. He was a good follower, but not the best at thinking on his own or being creative.

"The spirit? The Dark Lord wished to cleanse our world not…" His hand clenched convulsively on his wand. Lucius ignored it; he was the faster of the two and a better dueler. And Nott was not stupid enough politically to risk the attention unprovoked dueling with a suspected Death Eater would cause especially since he hadn't been suspected in the first place.

"He wanted to cleanse us, yes, of those unfit to bear a wand. And he was doing it for us and for our future." Lucius took a step closer and stared down. "Our future… our children. Tell me Alton, of the inner circle, how many managed to have the children he asked for? How many pureblood children did we give to the cause?"

Alton glared at him, shaking.

"I'll tell you, since you seem to be so forgetful, or was it that you were never in a position to know who all of us are? No matter." Lucius leaned forward. "Four. Alton. Only four children. And in the wizarding world in general? Less than a hundred. Most of the wizarding births in the last twenty years have been halfbloods. And muggles keep spawning increasingly year after year. They are out-breeding us."

The brunette wizard spoke through clenched teeth. "And you're blaming us? Coreen is dead! But I have my damned heir. Are you-"

Lucius decided that it would be prudent to ignore the grief Nott was still suffering and instead made a mental note to have Narcissa check in to see that the Nott boy was doing fine. Not a single pureblood child could be sacrificed if they meant to win this war. "Yes, you have an heir. As do I. But the Lestranges have no heir. Dolohov has no heir. Jugson, none. MacNair. None. Rosier. None."

The blood drained from Alton's face as Lucius went down the list of their comrades. "But…" He took a deep breath and rallied himself. "I still do not see what that has to do with accepting mudblo-"

"The Marchbanks line? It's died out." Lucius smiled softly. "The Prewett line? Only survives in those blood traitors and they do not know enough tradition to have one of their brood reclaim the line. The Prince line? Severus does carry the blood but Lord Prince forbid any child of Eileen from being able to claim their heritage. It has died out, as well. The last male Black is in jail and Draco is a Malfoy. The Black line will end this generation."

"Get to the point Lucius." Despite his words, Lucius could see that Alton was finally listening to him.

"If you look on any family tree or history book, you will see the names of powerful pureblood families that have died out. Most of the Noble Houses are gone. Did you know that the ministry has an entire committee dedicated to the claiming of the property of ended bloodlines? An entire committee because its happening so often and because they have to break through wards and spells accumulated over the years, spells so powerful that they last decades and centuries after the last family member is dead. Spells that draw strength from wizards and witches who only have a twentieth of the original blood. And when the spells fail…" Lucius just looked at him.

Everyone knew what happened when spells like that failed. Sometimes, they would be lucky and the house would become a normal house, just a structure. But what normally happened, the stories that made the Daily Prophet or became information to trade for on the underground market, was that the magic exploded. Centuries of charms, wards, and spells all ended at the same time and the magic that they had been holding back snapped outwards. The muggles called them unexplained house fires, a random earthquake, huge flying tea cups. They were dreaded and the Ministry did their best to regulate them.

Lucius thought they were wastes, all that knowledge and power gone without being saved. He suspected that the Dark Lord had broken into one or two of these manors, but there had never been enough time to ask.

"We cannot afford to lose anymore pureblood lines." It was an irrefutable fact. "The Dark lord forgave halfbloods their unfortunate heritage if they were loyal to the cause. Severus was one of our best."

"Severus is a Prince, despite old Boyce's disinheriting him. The fool should have rescinded it when all of his other children died without heirs. Severus's pure blood made up for his taint, and he was raised according to our traditions." Alton shook his head. "You can't teach a dog how to speak. The mudbloods don't have the blood or the proper training to be anymore than cannon fodder and…" He trailed off.

The man was finally considering all the ramifications of the bill Lucius had had passed. It was time to speak frankly. "I have little desire to save mudbloods, but times are desperate and we must do what we must. Only the powerful, those who should have been born to us will be affected by the law. And then they will have the proper training."

Nott gazed at him warily. "And the blood?"

The smile that crossed his lips made the other man shiver. "I'm sure by now you are aware that there a plenty of… ways, to deal with that problem."

After a long moment, Alton nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "You're treading dangerous waters, Malfoy. When they discover-"

"Discover what?" Lucius opened his arms. "I simply suggested the law. They passed it." He let his arms drop to his side. "Good day, Alton. Do owl me. Narcissa would love to hear from you."

He turned and made his way to the Floo, aware of Nott melting into the shadows behind him.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Hermione Granger was confused, which was not a state she found herself in often. Well, unless it had to do with other children. They confused her sometimes with their strange desire to play games she had no interest in and their reluctance to share with her. They also had an annoying habit of calling her names but she didn't really care about that. Only people with no self esteem or self confidence called others names. She thought it wasn't fair that _she'd_ gotten into trouble after telling them that but, though her parents tried to hide it, life wasn't fair. All you had to do was read or watch TV to understand that. Her parents still thought she was too young. She thought that they were ridiculous. As long as she read about it first, she could do anything. Anything.

Still, watching the scene before her was confusing. Her parents were facing off with two men who'd rung their doorbell and came in about five minutes ago. One was short and stout with a strange lime green bowler hat and the other was taller and the blondest she'd ever seen in her life.

"You want to WHAT?" Her mom was livid. Jean Granger did not raise her voice, ever. She hadn't when she'd discovered Hermione had reorganized her library by alphabetical order according to subject when she was three. She hadn't when Hermione had made the encyclopedias levitate to herself from the top shelf. And she even hadn't when Hermione had teleported into the library after her dad had locked the door to keep her out. Jean believed that everything could be reasoned out without losing your composure.

"Our daughter is not going anywhere with you people." John Granger put a hand on his wife's shoulder. His other hand was clenched into a fist as he glared at the two strangely dressed people who'd come into her house. "And I would like for you to leave my home."

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I understand that what we have come to tell you is hard to believe." The tall blonde man looked like he was wearing a priest's robes but he wasn't wearing the white collar that priest's wore. He also didn't talk like a priest; his every word had been drawled in a condescending manner that made her father's face get redder and redder. "However, we are here in your best interests."

"You come here late at night and barge in with your crazy ideas and strange…" Her mother made a weird hand motion. She was starting to shake although her voice was back under control. "Whatever. I don't like it and I think that we've talked enough. Please leave."

The short man took off his hat and wrung it. "Now, Mug- Grangers, I assure you that if we just calm down and talk this over- maybe over a spot of tea? You'll understand more clearly and everything we will go sm-"

"We do not need to understand anything else." Her father cut in.

Hermione frowned. She'd never seen or heard her parents behave so rudely. They'd both been raised in affluent well-to do families who'd instilled the value of manners in them as they had their daughter. Her mother was already teaching her proper etiquette at the table; something that her preschool teachers seemed to find odd but not as disturbing as the Nietzsche books she kept on sneaking in to read.

"There's no need to snap." The man with the bowler hat said. "If we just sit down and talk…"

"No." Jean Granger was firm.

The blond man sighed and suddenly there was a slim stick of wood in his hand. Hermione shivered and her parents stepped closer together.

"Now Lucius," the man with the bowler hat cautioned. "That's not necce-"

"What are you people about?" Her mother whispered.

Hermione started for the stairs. Her mother was scared of the strange man with his stick. She had to do something to help.

"Nothing harmful." The blonde man drawled. "It'll just be a little something for your nerves so we can discuss this… more civilly."

"Stop pointing that thing at me and my wife." Her father ordered.

"Lucius, I don't think you should." The bowler hat man said weakly. He gazed at the floor next to her parents.

"Now Cornelius," Lucius smiled, his grin resembling those of the sharks she'd seen in the aquarium. He lifted his stick of wood and flicked his wrist.

Hermione cleared the stairs and thrust her hands out, imagining a shield and hoping that she could do something like when she'd opened the lock on the chest of books her aunt had sent her without touching it. She didn't know what to expect, but the blue light that shot out of Lucius's wand bouncing off a silvery shield that appeared in front of her parents was not it. The blond had to dodge out of the way of the light as it bounced back.

It worked! Her mind danced with glee even as her parents turned and saw her. She hunched over, panting. Suddenly she was really tired.

Lucius's look of shock morphed in delight. "Is that your lovely daughter?"

Her mother ran for her and scooped her up.

"Get her out of her!" Her father hissed as he blocked his wife's retreat, his fists coming up into a defensive position.

The blond scoffed and raised his stick once more.

"Really," Cornelius said. He was still wringing his hat. "There's no need for this."

"Don't worry," Lucius smirked. "This won't hurt a bit."

Another light, yellow, flew from his stick. Hermione imagined the shield again but it appeared in front of her mother just as the light was about to hit her father.

"No!" Her mother paused in her flight and half turned back to her husband.

The light dissipated before it hit her father. Lucius's mouth dropped open and he focused on her, his eyes wide. "Impossible."

"I agree with you Lucius."

Everyone froze. A tall old man in a purple dress with a long white beard near to his knees was standing in the hallway behind the strange men. He had a stick of his own extended. Her mother gasped.

"Who are you people?" Her father whispered. Hermione could see sweat trickling on the back of his neck. "What do you want?"

The blonde man had moved so that he could see everyone in the room. His stick was nowhere in sight. "Finally, some intelligent questions. Dumbledore, so kind of you to join us."

"It was odd Lucius," Dumbledore put his stick away and twirled his beard. "The message you sent me seemed to indicate that this meeting would take place later, but luckily I decided to arrive a month and three days early."

"How auspicious." Hermione noticed that the man had a cane topped with what looked like a silver snake.

"Well, Dumbledore," Cornelius looked like he had eaten something sour. "Let's sit down and explain the situation to these muggles."

Muggles? Hermione thought. She'd never heard or read about them before and she'd already read through the dictionary three times.

"Excuse my manners." Dumbledore walked past the other two men. Her father took a few steps back. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You may call me Headmaster Dumbledore or Mr. Dumbledore. Whatever makes you more comfortable."

Her father gaped a bit, then sighed, coming to some sort of internal agreement, and shook the headmaster's outstretched hand. "Mr. Dumbledore, Dr. John Granger."

"It's nice to meet you Dr. Granger. Please excuse my… colleague's hasty behavior. We're all a little anxious tonight." Dumbledore glanced at Lucius.

"Yes," He agreed. "Now may we discuss business?"

John nodded and led them to the living room. He sat on a loveseat where her mother promptly followed with her on her lap. Dumbledore sat across from them on the couch and Cornelius perched next to him. Lucius took the leather armchair and immediately crossed his legs and placed his cane on his lap. He reminded her of a lion that she'd seen in a nature documentary; he'd been king of his pride.

The strangers exchanged glances and then the short man spoke up. "Let me introduce myself once again. I'm afraid we got off to the wrong start." He chuckled nervously. "I'm Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic."

"Lucius Malfoy." The blonde aristocratic man drawled. "I'm a governor of Hogwarts and part of the Pureblood Foster and Mentor Committee for Muggleborns."

John glared at the blonde. "The what committee?"

"And what does that have to do with our daughter?" Jane asked.

"We are a part of a world that has existed alongside of your world for centuries without being discovered. We are magic users and we have our own society with a different law and government than yours although your Prime minister is aware of us." Dumbledore sighed. "Although Lucius was rather indelicate with his wand a few minutes ago, I hoped it showed you that magic does exist and your daughter is able to use it."

"I don't know what I saw." John's fist clenched again.

"I'm tired and emotionally overwrought." Jane snapped. "I saw my terrified little girl running to her mother for help."

"Always quick to deny the truth, aren't you muggles?" Lucius asked. He pulled the head off his cane and the stick was back in his hand. "Lumus." A bright silver light hung over the stick. "Is this proof enough for you?"

"Special effects?" Her father did not sound sure of himself. "Fiber optics?"

"I assure, Dr. and Mrs. Granger. This is neither a hoax or a practical joke." Dumbledore lifted his own stick, waved it, and the small table in the middle of the room turned into a dog.

Her mother shrieked and her father gasped, grabbing each other and crushing her in the process. Hermione leaned away from them towards the golden retriever wagging its tail where the table used to be.

"Can you make it any type of dog or are you just limited to this breed? Any animal or are you just limited to dogs? Does it have to be an animal or can you change the table into any inanimate object? How about other objects? Can you change them too or just tables? Does it have to be a specific type of wood that the table is made of? Does mahogany produce golden retrievers and oak chocolate Labradors or-"

"Hermione!" Her mother clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Do you still have doubts? Cornelius? Dumbledore?" Lucius Malfoy was gazing at her the same way her classmate Dennis Coverly stared at the toys that he believed were his.

"Your daughter is five?" Fudge asked, his expression would have been comical had she not felt the way her parents tensed at his question.

"Yes." John bit out. "And saying I believe in… magic. What does that have to do with my little girl?"

"You love your daughter, I can see that. But strange and unexplainable things happen around her." Dumbledore said in a consoling manner.

Jane wrapped her arms around Hermione tighter. "My daughter is already reading at a college level and has a vocabulary almost larger than my own and I am a Doctor." She emphasized the word 'doctor'. "You'll have to be more specific in what you mean by strange and unexplainable."

"Books that you've put away are suddenly in her hands. You've seen food that she's wanted flying towards her. Sometimes she gets inside rooms that were locked without unlocking them. The transparent silver wall that appeared before you just minutes ago." The headmaster continued calmly.

Her father shook his head no.

"When she was one, the house caught on fire. Her room was ablaze and the bed she was sleeping on was completely burnt but she was unharmed, not even a single scorch mark."

Jane's jaw dropped. "How... how did you…"

"At three, you had her at your work. There is a painting of the rainforest in your office. As one of your patients was talking with her about it, the entire picture expanded and your room became the rainforest."

"That was a drea- That never…"

Hermione remembered that. She'd been bored and then the nice lady who was afraid of getting a wisdom tooth pulled had waxed poetical about the beautiful watercolor forest with its greens and blues and bright vivid colors and the pretty tiger and mischievous monkeys. Hermione had wanted to be in the painting, but it had come to her. All the flowers were pretty and trees were so tall and monkeys had swung from the vines and there was a little creek with glittering fishes flowing around the dentist chair and it was perfect but the nice lady had started screaming and her parents had come in and they'd started yelling and then. She scrunched up her forehead. Then men in dresses with sticks had shown up. She'd forgotten about that.

"Are you friends of the men with sticks who showed up then?" She asked. "They weren't very nice. They said bad words and then they pointed the sticks at Mum and Dad and they couldn't remember it good," Hermione stopped. That sentence didn't sound right. "Remember it right afterwards." That was better.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "You are a very articulate girl Ms. Granger."

"Do we need to list any more incidents?" Malfoy was tapping his cane against his leg. "She has one of the highest rates of accidental magic in the history of underage accidents. One of the highest of her generation."

"And that means what exactly?" Her father asked.

"She's one of the most powerful witches we have seen since the Fay. It's imperative for her own safety that she grows up in a wizarding environment." Malfoy answered.

"No. I refuse." Her mother gripped her harder. Hermione wriggled to try and get some room. "She's not going anywhere."

"Don't be hasty." Fudge held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "We are not going to take her from you. You will still be her parents. We will just be fostering her to one of our families."

"No. She's not going anywhere with Malfoy." Her father glared at the man.

"Not Lucius," Dumbledore assured John.

"My offer was denied." Lucius offered idly.

"Another couple has been chosen. They will be coming to meet you next week. We are just the ambassadors, here to smooth the way." Dumbledore gave them an understanding smile. Neither returned it.

"You people… you can make us forget?" Jane asked after a moment.

"It's important that muggles not learn about magic if they don't have to." The headmaster hedged.

"They can." John said grimly to his wife. "We have no choice in this matter do we?"

"We always have many choices before us." Dumbledore answered. "It's important that you think on this and make the one you feel is the best for all your family."

Lucius coughed into his hand to mask a snort. "I'm sure they appreciate your advice."

A muscle ticked in John's jaw. His wife laid her hand on his arm and steeled her shoulders. She stared directly at Dumbledore. "We have to see her and retain custody. We aren't agreeing to anything until we've seen everything in writing and we have to be able to contact each other."

Fudge clapped, smiling. "Wonderful! I knew you'd understand the situation."

"We want to keep our daughter." Hermione had never heard her father's voice so cold. "Since the other option is unacceptable, we will concede to this. That's the only reason."

"Oh don't be so down." Lucius smiled. "You are being given a privilege that is offered to few of your kind."

"Having our daughter taken from us? I can't see why I haven't begun jumping for joy." Her mother said sarcastically.

The blonde man's face tightened slightly. "I won't blame you for the urge to do so."

Her mother was so angry that she just spluttered incoherently.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "No need to be uncivilized."

"Is that all?" John asked Dumbledore. "We've… accepted the situation so I trust you can leave now?"

Dumbledore stood, Fudge hastily followed him up. "We'll meet next week with the family she will be fostering with and get all of the paperwork out of the way."

Her father stood up as well while her mother continued to hold her on the couch. He walked over to the two standing men. "Fine. You'll phone us as to the exact time and date?"

"Phone?" The blonde man scoffed from where he rose from the chair and idly brushed nonexistent dust from his robes.

"He means pellyto." Fudge looked proud of himself, an expression that changed to dismay at the look of incomprehension on her parents' faces. She had no idea what he was talking about either.

"Telephone, Cornelius." Dumbledore's smile looked as forced as the one she had to give whenever she visited her grandparents. "It's called a telephone."

There was a pause as her parents struggled to comprehend that the leader of the magical world had no idea what something as simple as a telephone was called. She'd known about it and its uses by the time she was two. She'd started telling her parents and anyone who stood still long enough its history by the next year. Exactly how different was this world they wanted to bring her into?

Her mother's hold which had relaxed somewhat at their unwanted guests imminent departure tightened even further at this little glimpse into the wizarding world.

"We will send you a message via owl post." Malfoy announced into the uncomfortable silence. He approached the other men and she noticed that all of them moved so that they could see him and his hands. He gave his shark's smile again.

"Owl post?" Her father shook his head. "You people use owls for messages?"

"It is similar to your postal system Dr. Granger." The headmaster nodded.

"Highly more accurate you'll find though." Fudge added.

Her father shook his head again, then held a hand out towards the door. "Let's continue this on our way out."

The wizards preceded him without comment and her mother remained on the couch, holding her back when she wanted to follow. Her mother pulled her into a hug and rocked, burying her face into her hair.

"My poor baby." Her mother kissed her forehead. "My poor baby."

O O O

There was little Jane Granger could do in the face of this situation. She and John had examined it from every angle since those damned wizards with the pointy sticks had arrived and announced that they were taking their daughter. Their only child.

Oh, those wizards had tried to dress it up nicely, tried to make it seem as if they had a choice, but faced with the fact if they refused there was nothing that she or John could do to stop them from simply erasing their memory and taking Hermione anyway, then they had no option but to agree. The casual display of the impossible that Dumbledore and that horrid Malfoy man had done had not been reassuring especially considering that according to Hermione, they'd had their memory altered several times before. And according to Hermione meant that it had happened because her baby did not lie.

She and John had barely managed to hide their dismay and, to be frank, horror at hearing the different times the 'men in dresses with sticks' had come and waved those same sticks and made them forget. Suddenly, different occasions were she'd suddenly come to herself and not remember how she'd gotten there, or realized that she'd lost time, or didn't remember when she'd done something were all revisited in her mind. At the times she thought maybe she was working too hard or was too tired, knowing what she did now she couldn't help the feeling of anger growing within her.

John had left the room, leaving her to explain to Hermione that dad wasn't angry at her but at the situation they'd found themselves in. She hated herself a little because a sliver of resentment towards the girl had flashed when her daughter had said 'I know' and proceeded to explain the human biological responses that caused her father to behave like he was.

Her daughter was five.

Jane had loved Hermione more than she thought she could love another person. Her love for her husband had come a close second, but her daughter held her heart the moment she'd held the unsmiling fuzzy haired infant in her arms. John liked to say that they just looked up one day and their daughter was a child prodigy who seemed to be the magnetic for odd happenings; that was a lie. The signs had been there even before they'd taken her from the hospital. The keen intelligence in wide brown eyes, the way the hat had flown off her little head and across the room every time they put it on, and the half-joking half-seriousness of the nurses who'd said they'd never known a baby to try and look at the exact moment her family was standing outside the glass.

Hermione Jean Granger was a special child and as she grew, reading and interacting and learning at a pace that outstripped everyone else in her generation, Jane was not proud to say that she had done her best to stifle her daughter in an attempt to make the girl more normal. John did the same, however in denial that he was.

She never stopped loving her daughter; she just stopped loving her as much. Her daughter had noticed the difference though she didn't think Hermione blamed her. John didn't. It was hard to love someone you couldn't stop resenting. But that didn't mean that she didn't love her daughter at all. It didn't mean that she was willing to let her daughter be taken away from her to an unfamiliar and scary world without putting measures in place that would keep her precious baby safe.

The wizards had thought that she and John would sit and sulk and cry about the futility of it all when they delivered their news. Dumbledore and Fudge had tried to hide it and even Malfoy had been polite, but it was obvious that they did not consider the Grangers to be equal to them. Knowing that they had the power to erase her memories on command gave her the knowledge of why that might be the case, but the fact that they saw her family as less bothered her. And that Lucius Malfoy man with his aristocratic looks and demeanor saw her and John as slightly higher than animals. He might not have said anything racist or horribly offensive, but the contempt in his eyes when he'd looked at them, the disgusted looks he'd given their house when he sat down, and the way that his first reaction to their refusal was to use his power to force them to do what he wanted. Even remembering the expression in his eyes made her want to curl into a fetal ball under her bed.

But she was not a woman to be cowed so easily. She had little power in this situation but she would be using it to the best of her ability. John had come out of his bubble of despair a day after he'd gone into it and she was already waiting with a list of options and possible stipulations to the papers they'd have to sign. They'd plotted and planned, determined to make sure that their rights as parents were not taken away. Hermione had helped point them to some books and clarified some of their points before wandering off to her room to read more on whatever current obsession was. Three weeks ago it had been architecture; last week it had been the effects of the unemployment rate on immigration policy. She'd been stumped for years on how Hermione got her books, refusing to believe what her eyes had seen which was that they simply appeared to her daughter but since she was admitting that magic was real, she knew that was the case. The barn owl with the letter had definitely been trying despite that admittance.

Still, she and John had prepared, and were prepared when Dumbledore and Fudge knocked on the door. She opened the door and smiled at the old man and the politician. It didn't reach her eyes, but it was the best given the circumstances.

"Mr. Dumbledore, Minister Fudge," she nodded at each them. Her husband shook their hands as they came in.

A man and a woman stood on the doorstep and she covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. They looked like they had stepped out of a magazine. The man was tall with curly brown hair, full lips, and piercing hazel eyes. His tuxedo probably cost more than her house. She couldn't take her eyes off of him until those lips of his curved into a smile. Her cheeks heated and she quickly glanced at the woman who must be his wife.

With long black hair, dark blue eyes, and a wide mouth, the woman complemented her husband's good looks. Just a few inches taller than Jane, her tasteful Armani gown hugged curves that put Jane's own figure to shame.

The woman smiled at Jane and held out her hand. "I'm Gytha Fermot. You must be Dr. Granger."

The pause that stretched before Jane recovered her wits and shook Mrs. Fermot's hand was a beat too long, but no one commented on it. "Nice to meet you Mrs. Fermot."

"Lady Fermot," the witch corrected as she stepped inside once Jane had released her hand. "But you must call me Gytha. We shall be close after all."

"Gytha." Jane wanted to hit her. "Please call me Jane."

"Of course." The other woman shook her husband's hand. Jane turned back to the man standing in her and held out her own hand.

Instead of shaking her hand, he raised it to his lips. She felt herself blushing again.

"Salutations Jane, I'm Edric Fermot."

"Edric," was that breathy voice really hers? "Please come in."

She didn't fail to notice that her husband's handshake with the man was very terse. "Welcome."

This time they congregated in the dining room. She brought everybody tea and biscuits because that was the polite thing to do and then joined her husband. She and John sat at one end of the table with Fudge and Dumbledore sitting opposite in the middle and the Fermots sitting on the other side. It was a perfect symbolism of their current position as opponents regardless of the partnership garbage that Fudge was spewing.

"You're well off." Gytha had been inspecting the house since she'd walked in. The polished hardwood floors, the Persian rugs, the chandelier, and the elegant antiques and paintings Jane had artfully placed had all come under the witch's gaze. "Your house is beautiful."

"Thank you." Jane managed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. The woman didn't need to sound so surprised. Had they expected a hovel? Or had they wanted to imply that they had the better resources to raise her child? "Our dental practice is thriving right now so we have two steady incomes flowing in."

Gytha flinched. Apparently Jane hadn't hidden her censure as well as she thought. "I meant no offense. I just wasn't expecting your house to be so… I mean muggles are…"

Fudge chuckled. "No worries, my dear. Its always a surprise when you meet civilized and normal muggles."

Dumbledore gave them a sympathizing look.

Jane felt her cheeks heat and could hear John's teeth grinding. The Fermots had been expecting a hovel. Either wizards and witches had a low view of non-magic using humans or she had just been introduced to the most prejudiced of the lot. But at least the Fermots seemed to accept that their house was on par with a wizard's; Malfoy had looked like he would burn the clothes he wore.

"Civilized?" John finally asked. "And what exactly is a muggle? You people keep on throwing that term around."

"A muggle is a non-magic user, Dr. Granger." Dumbledore answered.

There was an awkward silence.

Edric coughed. "So where is Hermione?"

"Upstairs." Jane knew her smile didn't match her eyes. This man, no matter how handsome, had no right to speak her child's name so informally. "We thought it best if she wasn't present for this."

Gytha nodded. "Yes. That's probably for the best. She wouldn't understand."

"The negotiations would be too much for any child." The witch's husband concluded.

John snorted and glanced at Jane. They did not know their daughter. "Not Hermione. But, now that pleasantries are over, let's get on with this."

Fudge pulled a folder from his briefcase and passed it over to John. "This is the basic contract. It should cover everything but we understand if you want to modify a few things to make it personal."

Her husband opened the folder on the table, positioned so they both could read the papers it contained. It was similar to adoption contracts that she'd seen while researching how to make the most of this.

"Does this happen often?" She asked as she moved the first page over to begin reading the second. So far there was nothing heinous, but it did read as a standardized contract rather than one that had been drawn up specifically for them.

"Not in the past, but for the last four years a few cases have come up." Fudge took another biscuit. "It only affects the strongest cases where they are a possible danger if left unchecked."

Jane noted Dumbledore's frown out of the corner of her eye. Something told her that he didn't approve of this and she had the feeling that he was here to insure that Fudge didn't steamroll them into this without giving them a chance. She appreciated it, as much as the circumstances allowed.

"We can't visit her?" John was a page ahead of her. "We're not allowed to visit and she can't come back here to visit either?"

"What?" Jane grabbed the page and read it. Clause. 25. The ward was not to be visited by non-magical humans in her wizarding parents' home. The ward also may not visit the ward's former residence or current residence of the non-magical humans.

"I can't agree to this." Her husband said.

"Let me explain." Fudge held up his hand. "That clause was added because some of the other cases had issues with functioning emotionally when they came to their muggle parent's house or their muggle parents visited them. There also was a slight," he coughed, "accident with one of the muggle parents who visited a wizarding residence. We've found that things go much smoother with total immersion and scheduled meetings at a third party venue."

"We can change this right?" John picked up a pen; his voice had a pleading note in it even as he tried to talk matter-of-factly. "We are cosmopolitan enough to pick up on most cultures, so you won't have to worry about us taking a wrong step and upsetting Hermione."

Jane placed both her hands in her lap so no one could see how hard they were shaking. This clause, only a single part of the whole, made the entire debacle much more real to her. Fudge could say what he wanted about emotional issues and accidents. She could see in the look in everyone but Dumbledore and John's face. The contract was not designed for the safety of the child unless they defined that safety by splitting them from their non-magic using parents. This paper was just to placate them that they had a little say in their daughter's life before they whisked her off and they only ever saw her on weekends and holidays.

She knew that Fudge was going to say no before he even opened his mouth and did so. John clenched his jaw at the refusal and looked at Edric. "Surely you folks have no problem with her coming her? I'll accept that maybe your world is too dangerous, but there is nothing keeping her from coming home."

Edric sighed. "I'd agree with you, but an acquaintance of mine also fostered a muggleborn, and it was clear that visits to his former home only upset the child. He got better once they changed the meetings to other locations."

Former home. Jane blinked rapidly. She finished the rest of the contract. The overall contract required her and her husband to give up primary legal magical guardianship of their daughter to the Fermots, though they still would retain a partial guardianship, and accept that it would also give the Fermots partial custody of Hermione in the normal world as well. Fine. They hadn't been beaten yet.

"If we can't visit her, we require weekly updates on her status including pictures. We also want her to write to us weekly." Jane waited as John placed the list they'd made in front of her.

Gytha nodded. "We expected no less."

John added it to the contract. Jane read off every item on the list, all created to increase what little access to their daughter they would be given and to increase their control over her future. All of them were approved by the Fermots and the minister, some with minor changes, except for the last one which would give them a say in her medical future.

"Our medication and healthcare is not the same as yours." Edric pointed out for about the twentieth time. "It would be inefficient to give you rights on that issue when you wouldn't understand the procedure."

"I'm a medical professional, Edric." Jane's hands clenched in her lap. "I was originally going to be a pediatrician before I switched to become an orthodontist. Believe me when I say that we will be able to understand any medical procedure that is described to us enough to judge whether or not it is necessary for our child." Although she still found the man ridiculously attractive, she wanted to punch him in the face. They'd been arguing this point for about fifteen minutes.

"Still, some of our practices that are helpful may seem barbarous to you." Gytha was a vocal opponent in this as well. "I know that I find your muggle medicine barbaric and backwards. That's why we should just have rights when it comes to each of them, not across the border."

Edric looked like he wanted to argue that only the Fermots should have the rights across the board, he'd certainly alluded to it enough, but he shut up at the look his wife gave him.

"I understand that." Jane forced herself to unclench her hands slowly. "I just want to be informed what the procedure is for, what its results and side effects are, and be allowed to judge based on that. If you tell me that touching a frog will cure her warts and the only side effect is slime, and I'm told it works. I'll have no issue. But if you tell me she had to drink a potion made of newts and eye of frogs and puppy tails in order to cure a cold, I want to be able to say no, here is some cough medicine."

Someone bit back a laugh. Everyone looked at Dumbledore whose eyes were twinkling though his face was a neutral as it had been since he'd walked in.

"I assure you, Jane. We do not use puppy tails in any cold cures." Fudge tried to smile politely but it just looked like he'd passed wind.

"But you use them in something?" She couldn't keep the outrage from her voice. "And what about the newt and frogs?"

The wizards said nothing. John was shaking his head. All the stories she'd heard about witches and warlocks and wizards came to mind as they had since last week. She knew all of them couldn't be true, but for every Merlin or Fairy godmother, there was a Circe or candy-house witch.

"This is what I meant about not understanding." Edric crossed his arms. "Its nothing like what I'm sure you're imagining."

Jane raised her eyebrows. What she was imagining now was something along the lines of 'thou shall not suffer a witch to live' and wondering how true that was. "I just want to make sure my child is protected."

Edric's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "Hermione's best protection is to stay with us." He spat.

"Honey?" Gytha placed her hand on his arm. The comment had been unnecessarily vehement.

"Your daughter is a witch whether you like it or not." The wizard glared at her like she'd tried to kill him.

It took her a moment to realize that he had somehow known what she was thinking and she drew back with a gasp. "You people can read minds!"

"What?" John put his arm around her. "What mess is this?"

"Edric." Dumbledore's eyes had lost their twinkle. "You know the rules."

Edric gazed back at him steadily. "She's broadcasting loud enough that anyone with a bit of talent could pick up. Don't tell me you didn't hear?"

"That aside, this is a trying time."

"That aside, I won't stand by while she-"

"Enough." Gytha had dug her nails into Edric's arm. "The headmaster is right. All our emotions are high and we need to calm down and finish this." She gave Jane an all-men-are-idiots look that would have worked but for how practiced it was.

Jane gave her a tight smile in return. "Fine."

"So," Fudge tapped his finger on the table. "Did we come to a decision?"

John leaned over to her. "They aren't going to back down on this, we just have to accept that they're giving us control over the normal part of her medical future." He whispered.

She nodded. "We'll accept that we get control over her normal muggle," and did that word taste sour on her tongue, "medical future as long as we are informed of any wizarding medical issues she encounters."

"Agreed and we expect the same courtesy." Gytha answered.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked.

Jane reviewed her list. "Yes."

Fudge stood up, crumbs falling from his suit onto her table and floor as he did so. "Wonderful! Dumbledore, if you would make the changes official?"

Dumbledore took the amended contract and waved his wand over it. A few seconds later all of their written in changes now looked like they had been there originally. He read out loud from the beginning so everyone was clear on what it now contained, then he stood by while the two couples reviewed themselves.

"Nothing needs to be changed?" The elderly wizard stroked his beard.

"No." John wrapped his arm around her. She could feel him shaking.

"No." Edric was holding his own wife.

"Good." Dumbledore twirled his wand. "If I could have each couple hold hands and touch knuckles then I'll finish this."

They'd been told they'd have to seal this magically. Jane grasped John's left hand in her right. They raised them and touched knuckles with the couple holding hands in front of them. Dumbledore rested his wand on the point were their hands touched.

"Do you John Granger and Jane Whatley Granger enter into this contract of your own free will?"

"I do." Their voices were shaky, and she was proud of herself for not screaming 'no!'.

"And do you agree to uphold this contract to the best of your ability on the pain of death?"

"I do." The pain of death part had been a sticking point but Fudge had assured them that it was just a formality.

She started as red flames flowed around their joined hands. It didn't hurt but the tingling disquieted her.

"And do you agree to give your daughter, Hermione Jean Granger, into the protection and guardianship of Edric Fermot and Gytha Flint Fermot?"

"I do."

The flames flowed once more. Jane felt tears sliding down her face.

"Do you Edric Fermot and Gytha Flint Fermot enter into this contract of your own free will?"

"I do." Their voices were firm. They were getting what they wanted.

"And do you agree to uphold this contract to the best of your ability on the pain of death?"

"I do." Gytha was crying too.

The flames curled around their hands and the tingling had increased to a steady throb.

"And do you agree to accept Hermione Jean Granger into your protection and guardianship?"

"I do." Edric's voice was triumphant.

For a second, her vision was obscured by red, then there was a sharp sting and the fire disappeared.

"It is done." Dumbledore informed them.

Everyone reclaimed their hands. Jane studied hers. It didn't look different, but she could feel that something had changed. The thought of Hermione leaving didn't seem so abhorrent anymore.

She was going to be sick.

It had messed with her mind.

John looked at her and she could see the same thoughts in his head.

"Well, now that business is over with," Fudge clapped his hands. "Can you call the girl down?"

Jane turned to the door, then stopped. "We get another week with her. Right?"

"Of course." Fudge answered. "We're not heartless."

Rage flowed through her at his remark, then she sighed and opened the door. Somehow, she was not surprised that Hermione was sitting next to it, reading a book on the history of the Romanov family.

"Are you done now mom?" Hermione placed the five hundred page book to the side and hugged her legs. "Can I meet them?"

She patted her daughter's unruly curls. "Yes."

When she turned back around, everyone was much closer to the door than they had been. Gytha smiled when she saw Hermione and Jane grudgingly accepted that it was genuine. There was also a genuine smile in Edric's eyes, although he tried to be more taciturn.

"These are your new guardians." It hurt to move so her daughter could go to them. Hurt to watch her baby embraced first by Gytha, then by her husband. It hurt to see that her baby hugged them back, however cautiously.

"It'll be okay." John pulled her to him so her back was against his chest. "We've done everything to ensure she won't be completely erased from our life."

Watching Hermione in the embrace of her new guardians, Jane could only hope that it would be enough.

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A/N: I'm back! Sorry all for the long wait, FF wasn't letting me posts chapters. Leave me a review to let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Chapter 3

For the second time in weeks, Dumbledore cursed his shortsightedness. He didn't know how it had happened, but somehow Lucius Malfoy was finding out about people he shouldn't have. For four years after Lucius had manipulated his Muggleborn Protection act into law, it had only affected those who really needed it and Dumbledore was ashamed to admit that he'd let his guard down. He'd thought that maybe, for once, he'd misjudged Malfoy and that the law had been thought up with good intentions on the blond pureblood's part.

He was wrong.

He'd just had to convince some Ministry officials that Terry Boot and Dean Thomas did not need to be removed from their homes. Yesterday, he'd been here to clean up the royal mistake of Fudge trying to foster Sir Finch-Fletchley's son to the Parkinson's. His only relief was that at least he was catching onto Malfoy's machinations sooner; if only he'd been this quick when it came to the Granger girl.

Hermione Granger was the strongest witch to be born in centuries. They'd had to call in professionals to deal with some of the accidents she'd caused but it was nothing so serious that should require her to be taken from her tolerant, loving, upper class family. And he'd taken steps to ensure that she would remain there, from misplacing reports, misdirection, and even a few well placed obliviates himself. The incident reports that the Ministry had were not the worst or most powerful that Hermione had done. But Lucius had still known she was a talent and gone after her personally. He'd had to pull several strings to ensure that the girl didn't end up as a ward of the Malfoys and betrothed to their only son.

The Fermots were not the couple he would have chosen, but they had been unable to have children and thus were very happy to get Hermione. He was sure that her raw potential and the acclaim that she would bring their family name, as the girl was now Hermione Granger Fermot in the wizarding world, would not hurt. The Fermots were a wealthy pureblood family that could trace their line to Merlin and were based mostly in France. They hadn't been connected to the Death Eaters and were fair in their dealings with muggleborns so he supposed it was the best compromise that he could get considering that both MacNair, who was not married, and Jugsen, old enough to be her grandfather, were both possible choices. Still, a pureblood education was the last thing someone of Hermione's power and mind needed. Her parents had done a surprisingly good job of recognizing what rights they would maintain and making sure that they would not lose them. But it wasn't enough.

He had a leak somewhere. In the months since little Hermione Granger had been taken into the wizarding world, he'd been searching to find the person or thing responsible for disrupting his plans. So far he'd found nothing which led him to believe that he hadn't been as thorough on his memory charms somewhere or that someone was deep in the pocket of Malfoy. Someone important.

Dumbledore stroked his beard even as he strode purposely through halls of the Ministry.

At this point, he was about to resort to magic that he preferred not to deal with. If what he thought had happened, actually had, he'd be doing the ritual the moment he got back to his quarters in Hogwarts.

He made another turn and walked into the Misuse of Magic office. Arthur Weasely was kneeling, talking softly to a large pile of blankets on a chair. His eyebrows rose of their own accord. The man had better have not called him here to ask about some inane Muggle device… He took another step and the breath left him when the pile shifted and a solid wall of magic prevented him from moving closer.

"It's okay, calm down." Arthur attempted to touch the pile but a wave of magic sent him flying backwards into his desk. He grunted as he stood up, rubbing his back. He glanced over and saw Albus standing in front of the invisible deterrent.

Albus was very disturbed when he realized that he couldn't get through it.

"Thank Merlin, you're here." Weasley straightened. "I've been doing my best, but… well you see."

"What happened Arthur?" Albus looked closer at what he had mistakenly thought were blankets. There was something powerful in them. The magic was wizard's magic, but he didn't know of anyone that small who could keep him out, no one bigger than that either. Even Voldemort couldn't have stopped him with just wall of magical will.

"I got a notice about an hour ago about something in Surrey going horribly wrong. Normally there would have been two of us, but… well the office has been understaffed lately and we don't normally get the issues like this. So I went to see what was going on." He paused, looked at the blankets and shivered.

"And?" Dumbledore prompted, his blood chilling. Surrey… The notice should have gone to the other office, but he had spelled it so that anything dealing with Surrey would come through Arthur because he had ensured that the man would tell him first. He glanced at the blankets again and prayed that they didn't conceal a child.

"It was horrible. I had to fight the furniture to get to the boy and… well… you understand Albus that I had to get the boy out first?"

Albus nodded, wondering how much worse his afternoon was about to get.

"It was difficult, but I was able to get to him and let him allow me to apparate him back here. Then I went back to help the muggles." Arthur ran a hand through his infamous red hair. "They'll all live. The muggle boy, he was scarred the least, thank Merlin. But the woman and the man… The mediwizards assured me that they would live."

"What did they say about the boy?" Albus motioned towards the blankets.

"They don't know. There wasn't enough time and he refuses to move." Arthur refused to meet his eyes.

"Arthur. What did he do?" Albus put a tiny bit of compulsion in his voice, time was wasting.

"He enchanted everything in the house to attack the muggles. The chairs, tables, rug, feletone, and even the house itself. The Aurors who showed up said they hadn't seen anything like that since the Death Eaters and You-know-who. They had to pull the woman out of the wall."

The blankets let out a gasp and shook. A murmur began, but it took a few seconds for Albus to make it out. "I-didn't-mean-it-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'lldoitrightnexttime-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-pleasedon'thitmeanymore!"

The furniture in the office started to levitate. Arthur drew his wand. Albus drew his own and flicked it to close and lock the door. Another flick ensured that a privacy charm was in place. Arthur stared from him to the shut door with a question in his eyes. Albus ignored him.

"Harry."

The murmur stopped and the furniture dropped. The blankets moved and Albus knew that the boy was staring at him. The wall in front of him did not drop or lose its strength.

"Harry," he made his voice as soothing as he could. Arthur shot him a startled look. "It was not your fault. No one will blame you for what happened. It was not your fault."

Then he motioned for Arthur to remain still, and waited. He couldn't do anything until the boy dropped his shield. He allowed none of his extreme disquiet show. He'd thought the boy would be powerful, but this was beyond anything he'd calculated for.

Slowly, as the boy could see that they were not threatening him, the blankets fell away. First one brilliant green eye was visible through the blankets, then the other, then a messy head of black hair, until finally his whole head was out, lightening scar and all. He still had the blankets wrapped tightly around him, but Harry Potter looked at Albus Dumbledore and blinked.

"You don't blame me?" Tears still flowed from eyes the exact color of his mother's. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted them to stop. I wanted it to finally be over."

Arthur gasped. Albus knew that the man had interpreted that the same way he had. The five year old boy-who-lived wanted to die. Perfect. Minerva would kill him for this if Severus didn't first.

"No, we don't blame you." Albus tried to move closer, but the wall had not dropped. He ignored his stinging nose. "They shouldn't have done that to you." The boy's small stature, hunched over way he sat, and the ways his eyes darted from him to Arthur as if one of them was about to hurt him, all spoke a clear tale of abuse. The bruises on his cheek and around his eyes and crooked nose colluded with the story. None of Arabella Figg's reports had mentioned anything like this.

Harry perked up a bit. "You think so? That's why I… I wanted it to stop. I didn't burn the eggs on purpose. Dudley kicked the box out from under me so I fell and I couldn't get up. It was an accident."

"Wha-"

Albus cut Arthur off before he could launch in to the rant that his incredibly red face hinted at. "And you were punished for it?"

Harry nodded. "And I couldn't get up fast enough so Uncle Vernon had to punish me for wasting his time. Aunt Petunia was laughing. I couldn't take it anymore."

"It sounds to me Harry, that your aunt and uncle are the ones who did the bad thing here. They shouldn't have done that to you."

"I didn't want to kill them." The boy sniffled. "Are they dead?" There was a mixture of hope and fear in his voice.

"No, Harry. They are not." Albus smiled reassuringly. "But don't worry. They won't hurt you again."

Albus didn't know how to feel about the fact that there was more disappointment than relief at the news, but reminded himself that it was only natural for an abused child to want there to be no possibility of his abusers getting to him again.

"Really?" Harry used his left hand to wipe his nose. Albus winced when he saw that two of the fingers were bent at odd angles. "Not again?"

"You won't be going back there, Harry."

Harry gazed into his eyes, as if the truth was in his eyes. Albus's smile almost dropped when he felt the boy's presence in his mind. He relaxed and let the boy feel his concern for him and the truth that the boy was not going to the Dursleys ever again. Harry blinked; the wall between them dropped.

"I… I still can't." The boy pulled the blankets around him as if they would provide a physical shield.

"Can't what?" Arthur asked.

"Move… my legs or my arm." He flinched away.

Albus cursed the Dursleys and jealous muggles from the depths of his heart. He slowly moved forward, careful to keep his eyes on Harry's. When he was a step away, he lifted up his wand. "Harry, I'm going to do a diagnostic spell on you, and try to heal what I can. Do you understand?"

"Diagnostic?" Harry's green eyes stared at him guardedly. "Spell? Magic's real? I didn't just imagine it?"

"Yes Harry, magic is real." Dumbledore made a flourish with his wand and flowers showered down on the wizarding world's savior. The boy's eyes widened further. "And a diagnostic spell will tell me what your health condition is and if anything is broken or not. Is that okay with you?"

It seemed like an eternity before Harry said yes.

The results of the spell only made his ire towards those who should have protected the boy worse. They deserved everything that had been done to them. Not only were the boy's legs, right arm, and two fingers on his left hand broken, he also had bruised ribs, a punctured lung, and a broken nose. On top of all that he was severely malnourished and almost blind. And that was just the injuries he'd suffered in the last twenty-four hours. The build up on his bones told their own story of multiple breaks and neglectful care.

How had the charms he had protecting the boy gone so awry that he hadn't detected any of this happening? Where was Arabella?

He pondered this question as he healed the boy's broken bones. Harry would have to see a mediwizard about his internal injuries, but he wasn't in imminent danger of collapsing and most of the pain should be gone.

Harry slowly dropped one of the blankets and flexed his hand and then stretched his arms, a large grin on his face. The grin disappeared and the blanket appeared around him the second he remembered he had an audience.

The exact second. One moment Harry had been stretching, the next the blanket was around him without any movement from him. Albus stroked his beard and silently cast a spell to test Harry's strength. Harry stiffened the moment the spell washed over him and stared at him accusingly.

"Sorry Harry," Albus tapped his wand against his hand. "I was just testing your reflexes. They're very good."

Harry nodded.

"Albus." Arthur began slowly. "He noticed when you cast a spell on him?"

"Is that bad?" Harry shrank into himself again.

"No! No." Arthur shook his head frantically. "It just means that you're very special."

The boy-who-lived glanced at Albus for confirmation which Albus gave him with a smile although he wished that Arthur would have kept his mouth shut. This was already a dangerous situation without the redhead messing with the boy's equilibrium.

It was very important that the boy remain calm. Albus just had to ask a few more questions to make sure he had a firm grasp of the situation before he started managing it. "Harry, how did you get better when they hurt you before?"

"I don't know." Harry shivered despite his blankets. "I just wanted to get better and I did, but not as good as you. It never stopped hurting, not like this." He wriggled all his fingers on his left hand. "It doesn't hurt."

"That's very good to hear, Harry. I hope you'll tell me if something hurts in the future so that we can make it better." Albus shot a silencing spell at Arthur lest the man say something inconvenient about the rare and prized treasure that the ability to heal yourself was, especially at a young age.

Albus knew what had happened to his wards. Harry Potter had happened. He was magically talented far beyond what Albus had accounted for so he had actually overpowered the magic that Albus had laid on the Dursley residence to protect him and notify him of any excessive abuse. It was a sobering thought. The boy rivaled him magically and he hadn't even gained the majority of his power.

He stroked his beard. Hermione Granger was in the same class as Harry with regards of power although she didn't have quite the instinctive use that he did, but she more than made up for that in her genius level intellect. It was rumored that Draco Malfoy could already open the Malfoy wards by himself, a feat his father didn't manage until he was double the child's age. Daphne Greengrass had turned a park into a forest. Pansy Parkinson had unicorns traveling across the continent to meet her. Even Arthur's youngest son was prone to the incredible bouts of accidental magic that marked several of the children in this generation.

Something was coming. Something big and Albus needed to be on top of his game to make sure that the wizarding world survived it. But first he needed to make sure that the boy he'd considered a general in all his plots was not too mentally scarred to take that post.

Someone banged one the door, making everyone jump. Arthur comforted Harry while Albus turned to see who it was. The door flew off its hinges before he could do anything and an enraged werewolf walked in.

"Something's happened to Harry!" He announced even as he gestured to the door so it returned to its rightful place. "I just stopped by Surrey and was able to go right up to the burning remains of his house. Albus, what is going-" He stopped short as he caught sight of the small boy huddled in blankets.

Harry stared wide-eyed at Remus Lupin. Remus sucked in a breath. "Merlin. Those eyes are just like his mother's." Then he took a closer look. Dumbledore had healed Harry's bones but the bruises hadn't faded. "What-"

"Remus." Albus was tempted to curse fate. How had the man found him here? "There was an incident and Harry will no longer be living with the Dursleys."

Remus's eyebrows rose. "What sort of incident?" There was a growl in his voice despite it being weeks away from the full moon.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Defensive accidental magic."

The werewolf's nostrils flared and the glare he sent Albus made him want to back up. "Defensive accidental magic? Enough to destroy a house? And we weren't allowed to see him for his own safety?"

Harry tensed and Albus cursed mentally. "You weren't allowed to see me? You wanted to see me?" There was a delicate quality to the boy's voice, as if he was afraid of the answer.

Remus took notice of it and toned himself down, relaxing his tense muscles and even managing a gentle smile. "Of course I wanted to see you Harry. I was very good friends with your parents."

"You knew my parents?" Harry perked up, letting the blankets fall further down on his shoulders.

"Your father was one of my best friends and I went to school with your mother." Remus, Albus noticed, was able to walk right up to Harry and sit down next to him without encountering a wall or being thrown across the room. "They were wonderful people. Loyal and brave and strong."

"And drunks?" Harry asked.

Everyone started. "No." Remus frowned. "Who gave you that idea?"

"Vernon said that they were drunks who drove off a bridge." The boy's words were hesitant as he saw the various looks of horror cross the three wizards' faces as they heard the flagrant lie about two of the bravest soldiers of their time. "He said my father beat my mother too so I was better o-"

"No!" Remus hugged the boy; Harry allowed it. "Your parents were great people and they died nobly. Your father would have rather hexed off his hands than ever use them to hurt your mother."

Harry considered this. "How about his feet? They're worse sometimes."

Remus swallowed audibly and hugged Harry closer. Though he spoke to Harry, his livid gaze was on Albus. "He would never use anything to hurt your mother or another human being. He loved her and she would have killed him if he tried."

"Really?" He grabbed a part of Remus's robe and stared into the werewolf's eyes. Remus's eyes widened and Albus knew that Harry was legilimancing the truth. Harry grinned a moment later. "That's nice. I wish I met them too. Can I live with you now?"

Both he and Arthur choked down a protest. Albus could see the headlines now: 'After torturing his abusive muggle relatives, the Boy-Who-Lived moves in with Werewolf! Is this the beginning of his turn to Darkness?' as penned by Rita Skeeter.

"We'll see about that Harry." Albus said before Remus recovered from his shock. Harry being raised by the werewolf would be even worse than Hermione at the Fermots. However… Harry couldn't go back to the Dursleys, Charlus Potter was on his death bed, and Harry had no other living relatives. Cornelius would block any attempts by him to raise the boy, and Malfoy would no doubt try to foster the boy himself.

Harry frowned and burrowed closer to Remus.

Of course, Albus was concentrating on the political impacts and forgetting the main problem of who the boy would allow to raise him. Things needed to be dealt with carefully to keep Harry from taking this incident and letting its effects drive him down the path of the one who'd given him that scar. The ministry would throw him with a pureblood family which could either mitigate the effects or make them worse.

He sighed. Harry was clutching Remus now as if the man were the only thing that anchored him to the world.

This was going to be difficult.

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A/N: And I'm back! Sorry all for the long wait. Life and other things intervened, but I managed to beat them back with a new chapter.

I hope you like where this going. Please Read and Review!


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Here you go! I haven't forgotten about this!

Disclaimer: I thought I told y'all, Harry Potter ain't never been mine.

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Chapter 4

Remus Lupin had been through a lot of things in his life. He'd been bitten by a werewolf and survived. He'd made friends with James Potter and Sirius Black and survived. He'd even survived a magical war, fighting alongside the Light side, and then survived the prejudice against werewolves by himself when those he'd fought with disappeared after his life fell apart at the end of the war.

But all those things seemed to dim in comparison to the small boy who looked around Remus's small house like it was a sheikh's palace. The small boy who'd refused to let go once he grasped Remus's hand, no matter how much Albus Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley had tried to cajole him away.

Remus wanted to cry like he had when he'd found out that one of his best friends had been betrayed into murder and then the betrayer had killed his other best friend, and then the betrayer, who'd also been a best friend, had been gone to jail. And that he wasn't even allowed to see his murdered best friend's son.

The hits that day had him reeling until he got himself alone and then the tears had flowed. Remus had picked himself up and got himself together, but barely, especially when the lack of support from the rest of the Order had shown him how much he'd depended on his small group of friends, his pack.

It was that pack bond that helped him hold himself together. That had kept him from eschewing his wand and going for Dumbledore's throat like the animal some of the laws claimed he was.

To allow this to happen to James's son. To Lily's child.

It was unthinkable.

Harry looked up at him, those big green eyes filled with question, and Remus made himself calm down. Again. The boy was so incredibly sensitive to changes in emotion that Remus wondered whether he'd ever be able to hide anything from Harry. He was sure that at this point it wasn't healthy to, not if they wanted Harry to recover from what had happened to him.

"Are you hungry?" He asked Harry when the boy paused in the kitchen. It was a pitiful sight, a small room with a stove, oven, refrigerator and a table barely big enough for two.

Harry seemed to sink into himself without moving a muscle. It was both worrying and infuriating, but Remus regulated those emotions and kept up his portrayal of calm. It was hard to do at Harry's answer.

"Do you want me to make you something?" Harry's hand loosened in Remus's grip. "I can... I can cook for my keep."

For the first time in his life, Remus thanked his werewolf status, thanked Merlin that it meant he had lots of practice controlling his temper. Of not apparating on the spot to kill Dumbledore or the betrayer. Thoughts of the betrayer, pack killer, made Remus's stomach churn, but Remus controlled it, moved through it like he always did. Like he always had to.

"No thank you, Harry." Remus smiled down at him, not condescendingly, but making sure that the genuine affection he felt for Harry shown. "I was offering to make something for you. You will _never _have to work for your keep in my house."

He'd slipped up and let a little growl out, but Harry was giving him that tentative smile again and the boy's grip had tightened on him. Remus knew that that was only piling up problems for him, but he would fight Dumbledore and the entire wizarding world to ensure that this child was happy.

"What do you want to do?" Remus asked. The kitchen was the end of the tour of his house in all of its three room glory: front room/bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. He wasn't sure what would entertain Harry, but he was certain the few toys he had packed away from when Harry was a toddler wouldn't be it.

Harry looked blankly around the room and shrugged. Remus wished that he had a TV, but he doubted that it would survive an encounter with Harry's magic. The boy's magic wrapped around him and outwards like a shield, something that Remus had only read about in fairy tales and epic stories, but he'd seen Harry's magic stop a spell of Dumbledore's before the old wizard had given in and let Harry go with Remus.

Arthur had suppressed the event, but Dumbledore still needed to get the paperwork that would let Remus keep Harry for now. Remus did not envy him that task.

"What did you do at you old house for fun?" Remus wouldn't call that place home, but maybe there was some bit of joy he could replicate for Harry here.

Harry's grip tightened on him. "Stay really quiet in my cupboard and pretend I didn't exist."

Remus decided that he wouldn't be mentioning the Dursleys or Harry's previous residence if he could help it. Anger threatened to bubble up; if Lily or James had known… That gave him an idea. He led Harry over to the threadbare pull out couch that served as his bed and sat down. Harry sat next to him, close enough that he could hold his hand but that they weren't touching in any other way.

"Would you like to hear about your parents?" Remus remembered how Harry had reacted earlier.

Harry's eyes gained a bit of interest and he shook his head yes.

"Well then," Remus called up a smile. "Me and your father first met officially at Hogwarts when we both got Sorted to Gryffindor, but unofficially, we first met on the train though neither of us knew each others' names at the time. In a strange twist of fate, we both decided to play a trick on somebody at the same time." He told the story of him as a studious, but adventurous individual, feeling slighted by another first year and deciding to play a slight prank on him.

Remus's smile became wistful as he reminisced.

James's prank and Remus's combined had done a number on the arrogant first year, but instead of getting angry, that first year had decided that they were worthy acquaintances.

Sirius had never been one to react normally to anything.

Peter had followed James from the beginning, curious to see if James'd do it, but Peter hadn't said anything and helped them all escape when the prefects arrived, so he'd added himself to their group.

At the end of the tale, he described meeting James officially in line to be sorted. James had looked at him, smiled and said, "James Potter, guess I'll be seeing you in Gryffindor then."

Just like that, a lifelong friendship had started.

It was bittersweet to be talking about James to his son. To be talking about his dead friends and their betrayer as if nothing had happened, but Harry was smiling, Harry was completely engaged and that was what mattered.

Remus sighed.

"Why are you sad?" Harry asked.

Remus shook his head. "Your father and I were good friends and sometimes I miss him."

Harry inched closer to Remus. "I miss him too. I wish he and mom hadn't died."

"Me too, Harry. Me too."

The little boy with big green eyes only hesitated for a second before he was back in Remus's arms, the second time today. But this time, Remus patted the boy's too thin back as he sobbed for the life he would never have.

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As a dog, Sirius didn't have very many needs. Food was a must, as was going to the bathroom, but that was about it. A dog didn't have dreams or hopes like people did. If someone threw a bone in his cell in this very instance, dog Sirius would wag his tail and chew on it, but his sense of self wasn't tied to getting that bone or enjoying it. The Dementors couldn't get past his dog mind and they couldn't feed on the simple animal simplicity of existing. A dog lived life in the here and now and the memories and feelings of human Sirius that Dementors feasted on couldn't be harvested unless something happened to bring those to the forefront, like the bone he mentioned. And the chances of someone throwing a bone in here were very narrow as in it had never happened in the four years that he'd been trapped in this hellhole.

It had been pure chance that he'd discovered that changing his form made experiencing the Dementors so much better. It was still more horrible than anything he'd ever experienced, even living at home with his mother, but it was bearable. He hadn't gone insane like some of the others who'd arrived here around the same time and after him. The only drawback to being a dog was the increased hearing and in this place he could hear every wail, shriek, and cackle uttered by the inhabitants of his block. And some idiot had gotten the brilliant idea of sticking the Black cousins near each other, so he'd had a front row seat to his cousin's descent into insanity. It said something about his own state of mind that he'd spent a great deal of that time laughing at her. It gave himself something to focus on other than revenge against the rat that had killed his best friend. The rat that had landed him in here.

Still, it was getting harder now that Bellatrix truly was insane. Before that, he could call out any slur against her beloved lord and listen to her rave and plot. Now, with her baby talk and babbling there was no art to it. Instead, he stayed a dog and contemplated the chances of getting that bone. He was content now, but he bet with a bone he'd be even better.

Remus (the abandoner! Where are you friend? where are you where are you) had always warned him and the others about staying in animagus form for too long. He'd compiled most of the research and made sure they memorized the effects and knew all of the horror stories. Sirius hadn't still had a tail when he turned back, but he knew that his thought process even as a human was becoming very dog like. He couldn't find it in himself to care though. Being a dog kept him sane, even if sane was curled up under the bed hoping that someone would throw a bone to him. Even if they just dropped it in front of the cell, he bet that he could get it. His snout was long enough.

He cocked his head, longing to hear the steps of that bone thrower, but instead he heard something that he shouldn't be hearing for at least another twelve hours.

He knew the rounds of all the Azkaban guards by heart. They patrolled the long-term ward every eighteen hours and the short term cells in four hour shifts. Right now, Auror Dreavies should be on the bottom floor, slowly trudging along.

The footsteps coming towards him were not Auror Dreavies. They were no one he'd heard visit him in Azkaban before, but they were familiar.

Sirius slipped from under the bed and became human. The Dementor's effect hit him at once and he partially collapsed onto his bed. All his previous amusement and hope about the bone were sapped as were the memories of him and the rest of the Marauders joking right before sixth year Christmas holidays. It was like the Dementors knew where they'd left off and snapped back right in place, in chronological order.

Luckily, he only had to wait a minute before three strong patronus chased the Dementors at bay and he felt clean for the first time in four years despite the grime on him. He cracked a grin at that thought, his tongue baths just weren't the same as a cat's.

His visitors seemed disturbed by his expression. Albus Dumbledore paused and, yes Sirius did catch that wince. There was a woman with him. A round, but trim woman with a no-nonsense face and determined demeanor, her taken aback expression disappeared in an instant. It took a moment for Sirius to place her, but he recognized Amelia Bones. Crouch looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. The guards holding the patronuses were grim-faced even for Azkaban guards.

Sirius kept the grin. Let them be uncomfortable. He wondered what business they had with him though. Were they going to just have him Kissed after all?

"Mr. Black," Amelia Bones began. "It had come to our attention that a grievous error in justice has occurred. I have just been informed that you have had no trial."

"Oh?" Sirius croaked. His voice was a horrifying mixture of broken glass and bad road. Or maybe broken glass on bad road. He mentally shook his head before he could get off target and concentrated on what she had said. Interesting that they were getting around to addressing this four years later.

"Yes," Crouch forced the word out of his mouth. Sirius had no doubt that this was not Ol Barty's idea.

Dumbledore gave him a grandfatherly smile. It would have looked wrong on Sirius's grandfathers and it looked especially wrong on Dumbledore. Sirius hadn't trusted the man completely before James' death and that little trust had only dwindled away after the man hadn't even tried to help Sirius when he was first thrown in here.

"No matter how guilty one might appear to be," Dumbledore even managed to have that damn twinkle in his eye, "everyone is entitled to due process of the law."

"This is a travesty," Crouch muttered under his breath. Sirius only heard it because of his amplified hearing.

He made sure to smile as wide as he could. "Well," he said. "That's the best news, I've heard all day. When is my trial?"

"You are…" Amelia frowned, "in much better condition than we expected."

No one missed Crouch's cough of "Dark magic" but they all choose to ignore it.

"My innocence has been a beacon of light against these Dementors, an inner Patronus if you will," Sirius said loftily as he could while still sounding like a muggle chainsaw.

Crouch drew himself up angrily, almost shaking. "You are a criminal and after we give you your trial and you're found guilty again, you will be returned right back here."

"And as to when the trial will take place," Dumbledore smiled, "now, my dear boy."

Now?

Sirius had a moment of shock, and then two of the prison guards stunned him at the same time. When he woke up again, he was struck with déjà vu. He was in the same place that Crouch had sentenced him in, stuck to the same chair.

The audience was different though. The Wizengamott peered down at him, at barely half capacity. And no one in the seats had an allegiance darker than light Grey.

Sirius shot a look at Dumbledore. This had the old man's scheming written all over it. The ancient wizard winked at him.

Amelia was saying something, but he missed it with how hard that one action sent him reeling.

What was the old coot playing at?

"Mr. Black," Amelia's firm voice brought him back to focus.

"Yes, Madame?" Sirius asked.

"Do you agree of you own free will to undergo Veritaseum?"

"Yes. I, Sirius Arcturus Black agree of my own free will to take Vertitaseaum." A part of Sirius couldn't believe this was happening. If only they had done this four years ago.

Amelia nodded and then the show and tell portion happened with the potions master testing the truth serum and stating that it was brewed correctly and had not been tampered with. Then he came over and put three drops in Sirius's mouth.

The sensation was a mix between being drained of personality by Dementors and being under the Imperious curse. Sirius had no will of his own and he felt slightly high. When Amelia started asking questions, he saw no issue with answering her truthfully to the fullest of his knowledge.

The first questions were just to show that the truth serum was working: his name, age, birthday, parent's names, and where he'd lived. Then she moved on to why they were here.

"Were you the Secret Keeper for James Potter and Lily Potter?"

The entire room seemed to take a breath, gazing down at him with greedy eyes.

"No." Sirius said.

Murmurs broke out, but he concentrated on Amelia. She looked shocked, yes, but not as much as she should be. His eyes slid to a grimly pleased Dumbledore for a second.

"Do you know who was?" Amelia asked.

The room quieted in an instant. No one wanted to miss anything.

"Yes." Sirius couldn't help the feral expression on his face that came automatically at the thought of the rat, "Peter Pettigrew."

The room erupted, not even at its full capacity but sound seemed to echo off the walls. The councilor had to call order several times before they all quieted down.

Sirius didn't even try to fight the questions, no matter how invasive as Amelia got the rest of the story from him, the truth starting with him and Peter being animagus all the way to him and James deciding to switch Secret Keepers.

Anger grew on Amelia's face as he went on but by the time he'd finished, it had changed to determination. The witch was just as fair as he remembered and he had a feeling that everyone who'd been a part of throwing him in jail would be seeing the courtroom from his position before long.

"Why didn't you tell anyone the truth at first when you discovered that the Potters had been killed?" Amelia asked.

It was a thought that had kept Sirius up for his first year in Azkaban. Would things have been different if he hadn't been a hot-tempered idiot? He didn't know, but he knew why he'd done the things he had. His emotional words came out as emotionlessly as everything else he'd said under Veritaseum. "I'd just discovered that my best friend, his son, my godson, and his wife, who was also my friend, were all dead. I saw Hagrid with Harry," he would have sobbed not under the truth serum, "and I realized that it was my fault because I'd let James change the Secret Keeper to Peter and now they were all dead. I trusted Peter. And he betrayed not just me, but us all, and I was so angry and hurt that all I could think about was making sure Harry was safe and confronting Peter."

She nodded, thoughtfully. "And what happened when you confronted Mr. Pettigrew. How did you find him so fast?"

"I went to all of the places that I knew he was likely to be at until I found him. It took me several hours." Sirius had never apparated so quickly and repeatedly in his life, even when he was on the run from Death Eaters. The mania for vengeance and just to know why had overtaken him.

"And what happened when you found him?"

"He saw me first. And he realized that I knew." Peter had looked at him at first with the same smile he'd always given him. That lying smile which betrayed ten years of friendship. Then the rat's eyes had widened and he had the nerve to smirk. "He said, have I finally outdone you in something Sirius?" As if Sirius had ever viewed their friendship as a competition. "And then I drew my wand on him. We dueled for a couple of minutes and he saw that I was going to win." Sirius had always been the better dueler and powered by rage, he'd been unstoppable. "But I wasn't trying to kill him so he had a slight edge. He knew I wouldn't hit him while he yelled about me betraying James and Lily and then he cursed off his own finger, killed those muggles and changed into a rat and escaped down the sewer."

"That was why the aurors caught you trying to spell off the muggle manhole." Amelia mused.

"Yes." He answered even though it wasn't a question.

"And the reports indicate that you made no move to fight the Aurors."

"Why should I? What good would it have done?" When the rat had escaped and the aurors came, Sirius's grief had already begun turning into self-loathing, shutting him down. Why complain when he had failed?

"I see." Amelia turned to the Wizengamott. "I rest the questioning of the defendant. We have one last piece of evidence to submit."

The same potions master as before came out. This time he held a tiny vial with a silvery wisp in it. A memory. "It has not been tampered with."

Amelia Bones took it from him. "I call Albus Dumbledore to the stand."

Albus made his way down and stood next to Sirius. He made the vow that he was telling the truth, and looked expectantly at Amelia.

"Albus, can you tell me what this vial contains?" Amelia asked.

"It holds a memory from Lily Evans Potter." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "She left it entrusted to Gringotts for Harry's guardianship."

"And what is the memory about?"

Sirius couldn't imagine what Harry's guardianship would have to do with his trial, or what Lily had to say about it. He wanted to see the memory himself.

"The memory is about many things," Dumbledore couldn't curb his wise old man tendencies even in the courtroom, "but what pertains here is that this memory is from after the Fidelius charm and Lily specifically mentions that Sirius was not the Secret Keeper."

More gasps from the audience. A woman with a vulture hat, hello Lady Longbottom, said something about proof.

A pensieve was brought out and three members of the Wizengammot, as well as Amelia all went into the memory. They came out clearly shaken from something, but the looks the Wizengamott members gave him were sympathetic.

"Lily Potter says that it wasn't him." An older wizard Sirius didn't recognize announced.

The other two agreed with him.

Amelia rested her case.

Sirius wasn't surprised when the vote to set him free was almost unanimous or when they ended up sentencing themselves to pay reparations.

Being released into Dumbledore's care on the way to St. Mungo's was also not a surprise. The old wizard, regardless of what he might play up to for propaganda, didn't do things for free. You might not see the price tag at first, but it was there and when Dumbledore came to collect he wouldn't let you forget it.

Dumbledore didn't say anything other than basic pleasantries and Sirius didn't say anything at all. The knowledge that he would never being going back to Azkaban was just sinking in. And it would be never, no matter what happened in the future, Sirius would make sure that they couldn't ever lock him up there again.

He was ruminating on what spells he'd have to use, when he remembered that Dumbledore had his wand. Albus had not offered it to him, neither did he mention it when Sirius was handed over into the care of Healers.

Spell after spell was cast on him and the Healers informed of things that anyone with a bit of common sense could have concluded just by looking at him. Malnourished and suffering from severe emotional trauma? Really? After spending such a wonderful time in the five star care at Azkaban with the Dementors as his loving caretakers? Who'd a thunk?

And Sirius was truthful enough to admit to himself that he hadn't been in the best place right before he'd been sent to Azkaban.

The Healers poured potions down his throat for a day, which he spent mostly delirious and moaning for bones, a pretty former Hufflepuff apprentice Medic told him when he was coherent again. He complemented her eyes and got his entire potions regime out of her, as well as all of the visitors (just Dumbledore), how the public was taking this, and news about what had happened since he'd been in jail. (Even after all this time, he still could get the ladies.)

Her news left him with a bit more respect and thankfulness towards Albus. Apparently, his re-trial and freedom had made a small article on the same page that the Daily Prophet reported changes in tax law under a large article reporting on the never-ending argument about cauldron thickness. Unsurprisingly, this meant that most of the public didn't realize he was out and wouldn't until he held a press conference or made some sort of announcement.

He was fine with that.

* * *

A/N: I know you're all probably surprised that I've updated, but I haven't forgotten about this. The delay has been due to a mixture of real life and a rewrite. I hope you all enjoyed. Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

* * *

Chapter 5

Mid-afternoon on his second week in St. Mungo's, Sirius was going stir-crazy. He'd traded one cell for another, even though this one smelled much better and had friendlier guards. They wouldn't let him get up and walk around, and were talking about him staying here for another week. That was not acceptable.

He wanted parchment and an owl so he could write someone to complain, but he didn't know who that person would be. Dumbledore seemed like the obvious choice, but Sirius didn't want to indebt himself to the man. Although Dumbledore was probably banking on Sirius already feeling indebted to him, he'd be wrong.

Sirius should have had his trial the day they brought him in or even a week later. Merlin, he'd have forgiven them if it had been a month. But according to Apprentice Healer Sally, _Lucius_ bloody _Malfoy,_ who anyone with eyes or a grain of sense knew was a Death Eater, was walking around free after claiming Imperious. That had been the bit of news that had destroyed any undue gratefulness to Dumbledore. If Malfoy could get off scot free when Dumbledore knew that they'd seen the man any number of times as a death eater, then Dumbledore had damn well better have gotten Sirius his trial, no matter how belated. It wasn't a gift or a favor to Sirius; it was what he was due.

And Sirius wanted to know why Dumbledore was going into Harry's guardianship with Gringotts now. He doubted (hoped feverishly) that his godson was not in Dumbledore's clutches, but he didn't know what to think.

The door opened then, and Healer Apprentice Sally poked her head in. "Good afternoon Lord Black, are you up for visitors?"

Sirius gave her a crooked half smile, designed to make her eyes melt the way they did towards him. "Of course, love, I'm always up for company."

She blushed becomingly. "I'll let him know." She left.

Him. Sirius sighed, his playboy facade dropping the moment the door closed. Was he finally going to get answers out of Dumbledore? He sniffed, but the spells on the room kept his nostrils annoyingly lemon filled. He didn't bother trying to listen because spells prevented that as well. He hadn't realized how much he relied on his improved senses until they were gone.

Apprentice Sally opened the door. "Don't excite him too much," she was telling his visitor.

Sirius opened his mouth to tell her what she could do with that rule when a wizard who was definitely not Dumbledore walked in.

"Have fun," Sally called before she closed the door, shutting Sirius in with Severus Snape without a wand to defend himself.

What the bloody fuck?

When Sally had told him about Malfoy, he'd been angry, but it was a hot rage. The type that led to rants and violent action had his target been within reach when he'd first heard the news. Once he'd ranted himself out though, the anger simmered but would only make him hate the man more, not take action.

But when she'd mentioned that Dumbledore had also gotten Snape free; that he'd also personally testified at that Slytherin bastard's trial and personally vouched for his character… Sally had stumbled back from Sirius, afraid of whatever she saw in his face. Sirius knew what he felt. Anger so intense that it went cold, frigid; freezing his entire body until he wouldn't be warm again until he bathed in blood.

The last time he'd felt like this was staring at the ruins of James' house in Godric's Hollow, that coldness creeping over him until he had to face Peter and draw the truth out of the rat's screaming body. Sirius had had to shut off his train of thought and change the subject at the time. Otherwise he'd have begun plotting the man's death. He might eschew a lot of things about being a Black, but this was one family trait that embraced him completely.

But now the Death Eater bastard was in here with him.

Ice jetted through Sirius's veins, spreading that coldness from the inside out. His magic gathered as well, heating the air so that the water in his glass boiled, but not affecting his artic body.

Snivellus hadn't changed from Sirius's last glimpse of him across a battlefield. The man's hair was still greasy and lank, his nose still a huge beak, and his skin was still pale and sallow. Black robes hung off of a frame only slightly larger than Sirius's and Sirius was suffering from severe malnourishment; he didn't know what Snape's excuse was.

"Black," Snape sneered, "don't look so worried, they took my wand at the front."

Sirius narrowed his eyes and reminded himself that he didn't want to go back to Azkaban. If he killed Snape now, he'd have no one else to blame it on. The ice remained, but he kept his head. Snape was full of it as usual. And Sirius was a Black; he knew that people carried around more than one wand.

"Snape," Sirius had enough restraint to not call him Snivellus. He was a grown man and he wouldn't stoop down unless Snape went there first. "What do you want?"

The dark-haired wizard scoffed. "As if you don't know."

"Know what?"

"This is not a subject to play games about, Black." Snape snapped.

Sirius blinked and studied Snape's body language. The other wizard was clearly uncomfortable being in the same room as him, and he was holding himself defensively. His face was almost neutral but his eyes gave him away. He was passionate about whatever this was. Sirius was tempted to say no just because, but he wanted to know what Snape thought he did.

"I'm not playing games, Snape," Sirius said. "You'll have to forgive me for not being up to date on everything, what with being newly freed from a place that you never had to set foot in. Pity really, since all your friends are there… still."

Snape shook, then his hands clenched. His words were tight. "And Albus hasn't said anything about his sudden need for your freedom?"

Albus, was it? Sirius's lip curled. "Albus hasn't spoken to me since he dropped me off here."

That made Snape blink, and an expression Sirius would have called fear on anyone with human feelings flitted across the other wizard's face. "You haven't signed anything have you? Made any transactions with Gringotts?"

Sirius crossed his arms; the action made Snape flinch and yes, Sirius was petty enough to smirk at the action. "No. You have the honor of being my first official visitor, Severus." He made sure to drawl the other man's name.

"Official visitor," Snape took a step forward. "Who was here unofficially?"

"No one," Sirius was tempted to leave it at that, but he wanted to know. Cats weren't the only curious creatures, and he'd love to destroy Snape with the information later. "Albus visited me while I was sleeping a few days ago, but left before I woke up."

Snape frowned. "Are you sure you didn't sign anything then? This is important Black!"

"No!" Sirius lost his temper. "And even if I did, it would be none of your business death eater!"

"Death Eater or not," Snape moved closer to the bed, "this is my business as much as it is yours. Since it seems that your ignorance is not feigned, I will tell you why I'm even subjecting myself to your presence. Believe me, if it wasn't of the upmost importance that I be here, I wouldn't be here."

"Why?" Sirius growled.

Snape took a deep breath. "I don't like you Black. I won't try to pretend that I've had some sort of epiphany and turn around. I know you don't like me. I can tell you that I have come to deeply regret my involvement with the Dark Lord for purely selfish reasons, but I doubt that you will believe me. What I'm hoping that you will believe, however, is that I have never stopped loving Lily-"

"Ha!" Sirius spit.

"I have never stopped loving Lily," Snape repeated as if he hadn't heard Sirius's outburst, "and for that, I made a vow to myself that I would do what I could to watch over her son."

"And what is this? The sad tragic tale of a man who couldn't let go?" Sirius could care less about Snape's feelings. He would in fact remember this to taunt him with it as he stood over former Slytherin's dying body.

Snape closed his eyes and muttered, "Merlin give me strength," under his breath. When he opened his eyes, they were still purpose filled. "No, this is my telling you, under supreme reluctance and much soul searching, that we are on the same side in this instance."

"You need help." Sirius had been in Azkaban, but Snape was the one who'd gone mad.

"Really?" Snape asked. "Azkaban has only improved your wit, I assure you."

If Sirius had had his wand, he would have killed Snape. "What. Is. Your. Point?"

Snape stepped back, and to Sirius's surprise, began pacing back and forth in front of his bed. "Albus left Lily's son with _Petunia_ and her worthless muggle husband. He told me the child went somewhere 'safe' where he was protected, but the entire time he was with _Petunia_."

Sirius had to be hearing things. "I'm sorry. Did you just say that my godson went to-"

"Petunia!" Snape increased his pace. "She was always jealous of Lily as a child and no better as an adult and then that old fool left Lily's son there. Lily's son!"

The thought of Harry, that happy baby, smiling at him even after being fished from a destroyed building, in the hands and 'care' of Lily's sister left him cold in a way that had nothing to do with rage. He'd met the woman only once. She'd refused to touch her sister lest she be 'infected' as if magic were a horrible disease. Muggles like her were the reason the Statute of Secrecy was so important; they were so jealous that they demonized wizards and saw them as less than human.

And Snape reacting like this? Something had happened. Something he wasn't going to like. It would have to be bad to have Snape so upset that he came to Sirius and offered a truce.

"But how?" Sirius asked. "I know that James and Lily specifically stated in their will that Harry was to go to anyone but Petunia. Lily had even said that he would go to an orphanage first."

"According to Albus," Snape sneered, "since all other guardians of the will were indisposed, what with you being in Azkaban, Lupin being a werewolf, and Pettigrew being supposedly dead, it left Harry's placement up to him."

Sirius swallowed. "Charlus is dead then?" James's father had been like a second father to him. He knew he would have taken Harry in if he was still alive. After Dorea had died, Charlus had been depressed, but Harry had been a bright spot in his life and he'd always sent James and Lily things for the baby.

"Yes. Otherwise, I'd be with him right now, if your newly cleared name didn't make you Harry's legal guardian."

Charlus was dead and… Sirius swayed. Him. He was responsible for James' and Lily's son. "So I get custody." A goofy grin came over his face. But it slipped. Snape was still pacing, still upset about something worse than Harry being in Petunia's care. "What else aren't you telling me?"

Snape stopped pacing. "A week ago, Harry was removed from the home. Petunia and her family were placed in a private hospital that Albus refuses to tell me the name off and Harry spent three days in here before he was well enough to go home with the werewolf. They abused Lily's son so badly that his magic enchanted the entire damn house to kill them all!"

The glass cracked in his hospital window and the cup by his bedside exploded. Sirius wasn't aware of getting out of bed, until he felt Snape's robe grasped in his hands. The cold rage was back. Sirius didn't even know he could go so cold so often in such a short period of time. He wouldn't have thought it in him before.

"Severus Snape," he cooed, in a voice that would have made his mother proud, "you are going to tell me everything you know. Now."

000

Albus had timed his arrival into Sirius's room perfectly. The man should have just had his evening potions, which would make him calm, and eaten dinner, which should make him tired. It would be simple for Albus to come in, set the scene, and nudge Sirius into the direction that he wanted.

Harry could not stay with Remus; nothing against the werewolf, but it was not in any of Albus's plans and nothing good could come of it in the long run.

Harry also couldn't stay with Sirius; the wrongfully convicted wizard was so unsuitable that he made Remus look like the perfect father material.

He knew that if he let this go through any other channels, the proper channels, Lucius and his plants would have a dozen horribly unacceptable places for Harry to go. No, Harry needed to be in a low magic atmosphere, unaware of his fame, so he could have a simple life and be more impressed with Hogwarts once he came. The boy needed to appear as a muggleborn and be humble and pliant to the prophecy's needs.

Petunia would have been perfect if not for the abuse. It had been hard for Albus to find anyone that fit his requirements as he looked into wizards from the Weasleys to the Diggorys. He'd finally decided to adopt the boy himself and have him raised by Arabella Figg.

Yes, the woman had failed deplorably at keeping track of Harry, but once he'd interrogated her, he'd seen that she'd done what he'd asked; she just hadn't been able to do so well because of the same thing that had kept him unaware of the boy's issues. The boy's magic had made sure that he was well whenever he went out in public which was the only time she'd seen him, so she hadn't actually seen the abuse. He'd forgiven her, and she'd already agreed to help.

The past two weeks, he'd been busy setting up things, obliviating the right people, buying a new house for them to live in, some place without a magical presence, and getting Sirius out of jail so he could expedite things.

To be honest, getting Sirius out of jail hadn't originally been in his plans until he'd accidentally discovered the whole mix-up. He hadn't expected the goblins to refuse him entrance to Harry's vault when he'd come to draw galleons for Remus to use that first week Harry had stayed with him. That they'd made their refusal on the basis of him trying to defraud the bank had led to him talking his way out of a permanent ban from Gringotts and then sitting down to hear the will that he hadn't bothered listening to four years ago. It hadn't mattered then. Possession was most of the law and he'd had the baby.

It mattered now though, especially since Harry's outburst from abuse had set off certain alarms on his vaults, both his trust vault and his family one. The goblins had rules about abuse much more stringent than wizards and he'd had to assure them, just as he had Severus, that he was taking care of it. To the goblins, and Severus, he knew that 'taking care of' meant dead, but he'd settled for quietly alerting the muggle authorities to handle it. The goblins had nodded at his assurance and then read him the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter.

Most of it was predictable, Harry went to first his godfather Sirius, then Remus, then Peter, then to Charlus Potter, and then to Frank and Alice Longbottom. It said something about how bad the war was that they'd listed so many people.

What was not predictable, was the specific statement in the will that Harry not be, in any circumstances, left with Lily's sister, Petunia, and that he should be given to an orphanage instead of that. Neither was the memory Lily left for Harry and others. The memory where she said that Harry would be happy with Sirius, who they trusted enough to make their secret keeper, even though they'd switched to another of his possible guardians at the end.

To Albus, that changed everything. Things that hadn't made any sense surrounding the events of October 31st suddenly became clear. He'd always wondered what had made Sirius betray his friends and then not kill or attempt to kill Harry even when he had the opportunity to do so at a time when a loyal Death Eater would have been enraged by what killed their master. Instead, Sirius had given Hagrid his bike to get Harry to safety quicker, and went after his friend. That was the other thing that never made any sense to him.

Why attack Peter? At the time, Sirius had to know that Albus would have people looking for him, so he could have gone into hiding easily, but he choose to kill muggles while trying to kill his friend? Any one Albus'd voiced this question to had always brushed it off as Black being mad, but it had never settled with him. Now they knew. Sirius was innocent of betraying the Potters. Peter wasn't.

Albus had to give the goblins back some of his family's goblin made artifacts, but he kept them from prosecuting him for unknowingly violating the terms of the Potter's will. They still wouldn't recognize him as Harry's wizard guardian though, until Sirius gave up his rights. It was while arguing with them over how a convict had a better claim than him, Albus Dumbledore, that they told him nothing could be changed until Sirius was given a trial.

The old wizard had been flummoxed, because of course Sirius had a trial, all the other Death Eaters had had trials, but then he thought back and realized that thanks to his own testimony and the deaths of the muggles at the scene the Aurors had caught Sirius at, the man had just been convicted and thrown in jail.

Changing the goblin's mind was a fruitless endeavor, so Albus went to the Department of Law and found Amelia Bones. She was skeptical at first, especially when he refused to show her the memory (he hadn't taken it out of Gringotts), but the fact that Sirius had not been given a trial, was enough to get him one. After that, Albus put his maneuvering skills to the test and got the trial date he wanted and the audience he wanted to be there. Showing the goblins the trial date was enough to get them to release the memory to the Department of Law.

The rest came together rather nicely as Sirius under the truth serum told them a story that held up much better under scrutiny and made more sense. Most of the Wizengamot who'd been present were shamefaced at not giving Sirius a trial or the benefit of the doubt. Albus had capitalized on that, of course, for the future. Now, though, all he needed was for Sirius to sign him over Harry's guardianship, and his plans would be back into place. He hadn't found Voldemort yet, but he knew that the wizard was still out there. He could feel it. Harry had to be nurtured correctly to fulfill his role in the prophecy.

So Albus walked into Sirius's room right on time in his schedule, the guardianship papers in his possession, and then froze at what was waiting for him.

Sirius, more healthy than Albus had seen the younger wizard, sitting up in bed smiling at Severus who was smiling (as much as the man was able) back at him.

Albus cast a wordless finite incantatem, not believing the sight in front of him.

"Albus," Sirius drew out his name. "Fancy seeing you here, finally."

"The Healers said it was better to let you have your rest," the lie slipped out smoothly.

"They told you that?" This from his Potions master. "Because they told me that they were encouraging visitors, especially for a case like… Sirius's. Positive human companionship helps combat the lingering effects of the Dementors."

You could have pushed Albus over with a leaf. He knew that Severus was mad at him; he'd almost died when the head of Slytherin had learned about Harry. He only lived because Severus held himself back and because Minerva had blocked some of the man's more explosive spells, though she hadn't done anything else to help. The Deputy Headmistress had also denied that she told Severus in the first place, but she was the only one he had told, albeit reluctantly after she confronted him about what happened. The witch had put her own warning charms on Privet Drive.

Remembering that he had faced Severus and Minerva and lived, Albus reminded himself that he was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and that he had nothing to worry about.

"We must have talked to different Healers then," he gave them his best grandfather smile. "I thought Sirius would be well enough to talk by now and we have some official business to go over. Severus, I'm not sure that you need to be in here for this."

"Is it about Harry?" Sirius crossed his arms. "Because if it is, he can stay."

Albus felt a foreboding shadow fall over him. He had been around long enough to recognize that this meeting was about to go very badly for him. The way two enemies stood together united said it all. He wouldn't be mentioning the guardianship papers and from Sirius's perfectly polite expression, something that was no more real than Severus's neutral face, playing on his sense of owing Albus for getting him out of jail wouldn't work here either.

"Partially," Albus pulled out a long thin box and handed it to Sirius. "First, here's your wand. The healers approved you having it."

Sirius opened the box and picked up his wand. Pure joy lit up his face before it melted back into the pleasantly smiling mask he'd been aiming at Albus. "And?"

"And, since you are out of Azkaban, you are now Harry's guardian. You just need to go to Gringotts to make everything official." Albus said.

"How about in the Ministry?" Sirius asked. "Am I his guardian there too already?"

Severus stood like a dark bird, watching Albus like a hawk.

Albus wanted to grit his teeth. He smiled. "No, my boy, I'm currently his wizarding guardian."

"Well, now that I'm out of Azkaban, innocent of all charges, you'll be changing that I suppose. Do you want to make that stop together or will you do it now and I just make the necessary signatures after I go to Gringotts?" Sirius seemed calm, even easy-going, but Albus could sense his anger.

"I thought that I'd file the necessary paperwork after you got out of the hospital." Albus said. "Didn't want to burden you with too much."

"File the paperwork. I'll be out of here in a couple of days and I don't want any loose ends." Sirius tilted his head in an odd animal motion. "I want complete guardianship of my godson as you've shown you can't be trusted in that matter."

Albus's instincts were telling him to leave now. He cast a few silent shields and soldiered on. He might not get custody, but he could plant a few seeds that would hopefully take root. "That, my boy, was an unseen complication."

"An unseen complication," Sirius repeated affably to Severus. "Petunia and whatever maggot she married being abusive to Harry was an unseen complication."

The yellow bolt of light that broke Albus's shield was only unexpected in that Sirius had done it silently and that Albus had to quickly get another shield up in place.

"You will understand, Dumbledore, that I want you to have no part of Harry." Sirius's calm tone scared Albus more than screaming would have.

Yelling meant that he could be reasoned with, but this here… this was why people had been so quick to believe he'd betrayed his best friend to Voldemort.

The Black madness. That cold cold rage that allowed them to appear perfectly fine even as they plotted your murder. He'd seen it an all the Black's he'd taught over the years from Lucretia to Regulus and all those he'd worked with.

It was safe to say that he could no longer count on Sirius as a reliable pawn. He wasn't sure about Severus, but Sirius was gone. That was maddening.

"I understand your position, Sirius," Albus said seriously. "I have no excuses for what happened, save that I didn't plan for the boy's magic."

"Harry's magic?" Sirius bared his teeth. "Harry's magic has nothing to do with your gross negligence. You left my grandson on a known wizard hater's doorstep in a basket and then never checked in on him once? No home visits. No dropping by just to introduce yourself and get him ready for the wizarding world as is required by law. No. It was not Harry's magic that caused your failure."

Albus digested this. It was all true, but neither Sirius or Severus could see or understand why he wanted Harry to have as little to do with the wizarding world as possible until the proper moment. "I made mistakes but-"

"No buts." Sirius said. "I am so angry that I actually am considering if Harry needs to go to Hogwarts at all."

That couldn't happen. "I apologize Sirius, to you and Harry and-"

"At this point, words are not enough." Sirius said. "I just want Harry to be in my care and safe. So I am going to repeat, again, that I want all the paperwork done so that once I get out, I can sign what I need to and collect my godson. If you make any trouble, any at all, then the Daily Prophet is going to get an exclusive on what you've allowed to happen to Harry." Sirius gave Albus a smile that curdled his blood. "I will ruin you. I will use all of my resources to ensure that your name is synonymous with flobber worm waste. Do you understand?"

"I assure you, Sirius, that we both have Harry's interests in mind." Albus's plans were imploding. "I understand."

"Good. I'll see you around then."

It was a dismissal, so Albus nodded at Sirius and Severus and left. Severus and he needed to talk. The potions master had no real reason to be there. Albus had a feeling the man had only stayed to ensure that Albus didn't coerce Sirius into anything and then Obliviate him. He cursed the former Death eater even as he admired his cunning. Coercion and obliviation had been plan B.

Fortunately for himself, and the wizarding world, though plans A through M were ruined, he still had N to Z. Albus Dumbledore would not be thwarted.

* * *

A/N: Once more, real life had a hold of me. Then Sirius took hold of my muse and tried to make it all about him. Hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will focus more on the kids.


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